An Ill Wind
by WildClover27
Summary: What is in the basement of the Blue Fox? Actor learns part of the answer when he must retrieve a very ill Teresa Garrison. Now what will he do? And how will Garrison react.
1. Chapter 1

Pneumonia

Chapter 1

Terry Garrison and Pierre stood by the wall at the middle of the arching stone bridge, trapped. There was an armored vehicle with a machine gun at the end of the bridge in front of them and two trucks of troops advancing behind them. The five members of their cell, hidden in the brush below the bridge, were tremendously outnumbered. The only hope for the two on the bridge was if they were taken prisoner. A volley of shots rang out, putting an end to that hope. The Wehrmacht weren't taking prisoners.

Pierre caught a bullet in the leg, almost going down. He grabbed his leg with one hand to keep himself upright. With the other hand, he grabbed the arm of the woman who was their co-leader and helped boost her over the railing. Terry looked at the river, swollen with springtime runoff and churning rapidly far below her. Another volley of shots rang out, ripping Pierre's hand from her and flinging the man like a lifeless rag doll. Terry took the only avenue left to her and jumped.

She hit the water feet first, the coldness stunning her and the swift current sucking her under and along at a fast clip. She struggled to the surface, gulped air and dove back under as bullets laced the water around her.

The strong current dragged her rapidly downstream as Terry fought to angle toward the shore. The landscape changed from woods to open pastureland that offered little in the line of cover. Just when she thought she could no longer hang on, she spotted a small copse of trees and bushes overhanging the river. Somehow, through the exhaustion and cold, she made it to the shore and grabbed a tree root with numb hands. Breathing heavily, she wedged herself in between two roots and rested a moment. She had to get out of the frigid water. With grim determination, Terry grasped slippery branches and roots and began to pull herself up. The growing rumble of large vehicles made her drop back down and burrow into a hole with a slight overhang for cover.

While she was freezing, the soldiers were hot in the open sun. Of course, they pulled up and parked under the shade of the trees. They decided this was as good a place as any to set up a roadblock. Terry was trapped.

After hours in the water, Terry's entire body was now numb with the cold. Time and again, a soldier would walk to the edge and scan the river, presumably looking for her. She stayed motionless and silent, even as a stream of yellow water arched into the water to her right. Great, she thought, I'm going to die in a German toilet and none of my family is going to know what happened to me. It was her last semi-coherent thought.

The small band of Jaguar operatives stopped by the trees. After a couple hours, the German patrol figured there was no chance of the girl coming through there and they left. Terry was oblivious to their departure. She was also oblivious to the man who climbed partway down the rugged bank, eyes sweeping the edge of the water and spotting her sodden pants leg. He motioned with a wave of his arm and another man joined him in the water and lifted her to the others. She was bundled in blankets and driven as quickly as possible to a waiting boat at a small fishing village. A brief wireless message notified Jaguar headquarters to pick her up.

GGGGG

Madge looked with worried eyes at the flame-haired woman who was standing beside her in the basement of the bar. Kit absently chewed on a fingernail trying to let the message sink in. It was a fine time for Shiv to decide to visit France. Terry had to be in a bad way to not contact the bar herself. A husband and wife team from Hastings had been contacted to pick up 'the package' and deliver it to the Fox.

"Wot about the Lieutenant?" asked Madge. "'Ow are we goin' to tell him?"

"We aren't," said Kit firmly. "He went in without the guys. He's not back yet as far as I know."

"So what do we do?" Terry had come back before with bullet holes in her, but always under her own steam. This was new.

"I don't know," admitted Kit. "I guess we wait and see how bad she is."

The arrival of 'the package' an hour and a half later did nothing to relieve the situation. It took the couple and the two women to half carry and half drag the blanket wrapped bundle down the stairs and into the basement. The sodden woman was placed on the only cot they had and the damp blanket replaced with a dry one.

The slightly crippled older man shook his head sadly at the woman who was breathing harshly and semi-comatose. "She's been mutterin' in French and German 'bout a bridge an' Krauts," he said.

"Can you manage her, Dearies?" asked the graying wife with kind concern.

"We have to," replied Kit. "Can't put her in a hospital this way." She shook her head. "Thank you for bringing her."

"Anything we can do, just let us know," said the man. His leg was too damaged from the previous war to do anything with the military, but this little group of resistance offered him a way to participate in the current war.

He and his wife left the two women with their charge and made their way back up the stairs to the back alley. Kit watched them leave, and moved to the cupboard to get towels. She knelt beside the cot and began trying to dry the tangled, muddy mass of auburn hair.

"Wot do you want me to do?" asked Madge.

Kit concentrated on what she was doing. "Call the Mansion and see if Craig is back yet. If he is, I'll have to think of something. If he isn't, tell Actor to come.

GGGGG

The phone rang at the mansion. Casino was walking past the base of the stairs with a cup of coffee and answered it. "Gorillas."

"Is Lt. Garrison there?" asked a Cockney female voice.

"No," said Casino, puzzled and recognizing Madge from the Blue Fox. "You wanna leave a message?"

"Let me speak to Actor please," said Madge formally.

"What? I ain't good enough tuh take a message?" said the safecracker sourly.

"Give me the Big Bloke now, yuh bloody idjit!"

Casino pulled the receiver away from his ringing ear and stared at it. "Fine. Seein' as yuh asked so nice." He set the receiver down on the table and shook his head before looking at the con man.

"She wants you," he said just as sourly to Actor. "It's the Fox."

The Italian frowned and got up, striding across the room and picking up the phone. "This is Actor."

"You need to come," said the woman in a calmer but concerned voice. "It's Terry. She's in a bad way. 'Ere's Kit."

"Kit, what happened!" demanded Actor as soon as the redhead got on the line.

"Everything went to hell, Actor," said Kit. "They got her out, but she's really sick and out of her head. I can't put her in a hospital. She's saying things she shouldn't. And I can't get her out of here."

"I will be there immediately," said Actor curtly, half in anger and half in fear.

"Actor!" Kit got his attention before he could hang up. "Come to the back door in the alley."

Actor hung up and bounded up the stairs, two and three steps at a time. He went into Teresa's room and retrieved her aid kit. Striding back down the stairs, he paused at the bottom and looked at the cons.

"What's going on?" asked Chief.

Actor shook his head. "I don't know exactly."

"Terry?" asked Casino.

Actor shook his head, refusing to say. The three other men knew instinctively this had to be about Terry and it wasn't good.

"When you comin' back?" asked Goniff.

"When you see me," replied the con man evasively.

"How we gonna reach you?" asked Chief.

"I will contact you."

"What are we 'sposed tuh tell the Warden?" demanded Casino. "And shouldn't one of us go with you?"

"You can tell the Warden whatever you like," replied Actor with flaring irritation. "And no! You will not come with me, or follow me." He stormed out the front door.

Chief watched from the window and the other two joined him. They saw Actor get in the Packard and leave with a squeal of tires that was uncharacteristic of the way they had seen the man usually drive. He did not stop at the end of the drive, but turned sharply and gunned the big car up the road toward Brandonshire.

"Sump'in' bad's 'appened to Terry," said Goniff with certainty.

"That's a sure bet," replied Chief.

Casino turned away sullenly. It irked him when Actor got so high and mighty, especially when it concerned Terry. Did Beautiful think he was the only one who worried about the crazy woman?

GGGGG

Actor pushed the big car as fast as he dared on the country road that led to Brandonshire. The first haying was being done in the area. With the rationing of petrol, the farm machinery was pulled from farm to farm by horse or mule. They were slow-moving and wide enough to make passing difficult at best.

Terry was 'sick' and 'talking out of her head.' This was not a simple gunshot wound. It had to be something worse. Worse worried him greatly. The woman came back with bullet wounds all too frequently. Actor supposed she was getting to be like her brother . . . taking the risky business onto herself to protect those she was with. The fact that he was so concerned for her was something he pushed to the back of his mind, unwilling to admit he was becoming a bit _too_ concerned about the young woman.

Despite the obstacles in the road, he made it to Brandonshire in good time according to his watch. To the Italian it had seemed agonizingly slow. Realizing the Packard could be recognized by someone from G-2 if it was seen in front of the Fox, Actor zigzagged through the village to reach the entrance in the alley that ran behind the bar. He knew the back entrance was there for deliveries, but had never had occasion to go in that way. Now he parked behind the garbage bin, picked up the aid kit and went to the dented metal door. Glancing around from habit, he knocked and waited impatiently. The door slowly eased open an inch and an eye could be seen peering cautiously up at him. Satisfied, Madge opened the door the rest of the way and motioned the tall man inside.

Actor stepped past her and waited as she quietly closed the heavy door and bolted it. The woman who seemed to be the only hired help the bar had, looked up at him with trepidation. The confidence man realized his bearing was probably that of an SS officer and softened his features a bit.

"Where is she?" he asked, tone still brusque, as he glanced around the storage room.

"Downstairs," replied the woman, opening the door to the basement stairs.

Foregoing his usual gracious manners, Actor pushed ahead and descended the aged wooden steps. At one time or another, all the cons had pondered what exactly was in the basement of the bar. Actor should not have been too surprised, judging by Teresa's mysterious activities, but was still brought up short by what he now observed.

The room was cavernous, floor cemented, walls of stone from an earlier era. A wooden table hugged one wall across from the stairs. It had a telephone and a large radio. Not the kind of radio meant for listening to music and news broadcasts. Books and folders were stacked haphazardly by the telephone and a note pad lay in front of the radio. Tall file cabinets flanked the table. Actor turned to look into the center of the room. Many dangling light bulbs illuminated the table in the center of the floor and the stacks of various sized boxes that lined two other walls. Only one isolated stack held liquor for the bar. It was difficult to ascertain what the other boxes held. The con man seriously doubted the contents were legal.

Actor turned his attention to the wary woman who had come to stand beside him, her face still and concerned.

"Where is she?" asked the Italian in a steely voice.

"This way," said Madge quietly.

She led him across the room, giving wide berth around the center table that held a large map, to a door concealed from his view by the stacked boxes. With a sharp rap of knuckles on the wooden door, she opened it and stood back so Actor could enter.

The Italian's eyes automatically swept around the unadorned room looking for danger. Kit was sitting on a straight wooden chair in front of a cot. The blanketed bundle on the makeshift bed could only be recognized as Teresa by the strands of lank auburn hair that escaped one end. The bundle shivered uncontrollably. Kit sprang to her feet and backed away as Actor strode forward. He dropped to sit on his heels beside the cot and lifted the blanket away from the top half of the woman.

Teresa did not respond. Her color was gray, made all the more pale by the rosiness of her fevered cheeks. Her breath was loud and wetly labored. Her clothes were more than damp. As the cool air of the room reached her, Teresa's shivering intensified.

Actor swore loudly in Italian, tucking the blanket back around the ill woman and pivoting on his toes to glare thunderously at Kit. "What happened to her?" he demanded.

Kit sucked on her lower lip. Shiv would have her hide if she told Actor, but the con man was the only one who could help Terry right now. "She spent several hours in a river in Belgium. She was hiding from the Krauts. They killed her contact. It took awhile for her people to get her out. The Krauts were right on top of her."

"How long?"

Kit looked at the livid countenance of the man she was rather afraid of to begin with and swallowed hard before answering. "Day before yesterday."

" _Dio!_ "

Actor turned his attention back to Teresa, lifted the blanket again and took closer assessment of the woman's condition. Her face was hot, but her extremities were like ice. He could tell through the damp, clinging clothing that she was using every muscle she had in her chest to breath. Her lips moved, the words too quiet to be heard. Actor leaned closer and listened as she spoke again. The words gasped out in French, mentioning someone named Pierre and the Krauts. After a moment of gasping air, she spoke again, this time in German. That put an end to any thought Actor might have entertained of taking her to a hospital. She needed to be someplace warm, and quickly. The mansion, no matter how fast he drove, was too far away. Actor tucked the blanket back around the girl, his touch gentle even in his anger.

Rage emanated from him in waves as he rose to his feet. He pinned the Gallagher woman with flashing eyes. "I will take her to her flat for now. She needs someplace warmer than this cold basement. And she needs penicillin. Do you have any down here?"

Kit shook her head, afraid to speak.

"But you know how to get some, don't you?" Actor's voice was accusingly certain.

"I can get it," admitted Kit, "but I don't have the money for it right now."

Actor's upper lip curled up in a sneer. He reached in his pocket and pulled out a roll of bills. He grabbed her hand and flipped it over, slapping the money into it. "Now you have money. First, you will help me get her to her flat and then you will go get penicillin. I don't care where or how."

Kit nodded. She had never liked the Italian con's arrogance, but now she wished she had more on her than a switchblade she wasn't all that good with. His anger was frightening. What was worse was she considered he was right.

Actor handed the aid kit to Kit and carefully tucked the blankets more securely around Teresa. Kit watched the gentleness of his touch in wonder. As angry as the man was, his actions showed a concern for the comfort of the woman that might explain Terry's friendship with Actor. The con man picked the blanketed bundle up in his strong arms, whispering soothingly in Italian to Terry before turning toward Kit.

"Lead the way," he instructed in a voice not quite as harsh to her as before.

Kit nodded. She turned toward the door and saw Madge back up and sprint for the stairs. Kit followed her and waited at the top for Actor, who was climbing carefully. Madge held the door to the store room open and Kit went to open the door to the alley.

Actor paused at the top of stairs and looked at the Cockney woman who seemed wary and concerned at the same time. "My apologies, Madge," said Actor in a low voice. "Thank you for notifying me."

Madge nodded and touched his sleeve lightly. "You need anythin', call," she said.

Actor nodded and followed Kit outside. The redhead had the back door of the car open. Terry was placed on the seat and Actor trotted around to the other side, opened that door and guided the blanketed woman back until she was lying along the seat. Both back doors were closed and the two got into the front seat with Actor driving.

Pulling to the curb in front of the girls' flats, Actor shut off the engine and reached in his jacket pocket for the key to Teresa's door. He looked at it in his palm, stifling memories of how he had come to have the key. He held it out toward Kit. If the woman was surprised that he had it, she didn't show it as she took it from him.

"What about the landlady," asked Actor, wondering what kind of con he would have to weave.

"Shouldn't be a problem," answered Kit. "She takes a nap at this time every afternoon. If we don't make noise, she probably won't know we're here."

The two got out and moved to the front door by the sidewalk. A quick look around showed no one to see them. Kit held the door while Actor struggled to get Teresa into the foyer. He shifted her in his arms and followed the other girl up into the building. They moved silently past the landlady's door and up the stairs. Kit opened the door to Terry's flat and followed Actor in. She shut the door and turned to find the man striding across the living room and into the hall, directly to Terry's bedroom.

Kit stayed by the bedroom door and watched the con man. He gently placed the blanketed woman atop her bed and carefully arranged the blankets to be less binding. A hand lightly smoothed the damp strands of hair from Terry's face. Kit watched and tried to piece it together.

She knew Actor was the medical person for Craig's band of misfits. She also knew Actor and Terry were a team on the missions. There was one time that she was aware of that Terry had allowed Actor to stay in her flat alone. This was more than an older man's concern for the sister of his superior officer. She wondered if Craig knew. Certainly not. Thinking about it, Kit wondered if Terry and Actor realized it themselves. The tall man turned and looked at her.

"What can I do?" asked Kit.

"You can go get the penicillin," replied Actor with exasperation. He collected himself. "I can take care of things from here," he said in a milder tone. "She needs the penicillin."

Kit tossed the key to him. "If you think of anything else you need, call Madge."

"Thank you," said Actor.

Kit gave a half smile and disappeared back into the living room. A moment later, the sound of the door closing reached the confidence man.

Actor went to the fireplace and started a fire, even though it was the beginning of summer and the closed up apartment was not chill. Once it was going, he rose and turned back to the bed. A hand reached out to turn on the bedside lamp before he removed his jacket and draped it over the back of a chair. Head cocked to one side, he looked down at the woman on the bed.

"Oh, Teresa," he said softly and sadly.


	2. Chapter 2

Pneumonia

Chapter 2

Actor looked down at the still form on the bed. _Dio_ , she was a mess. She had apparently been dragged out of the river and through the mud. There was nothing he could do about the hair, but he could at least clean the rest of her up. He had built the fire up in the fireplace so it was too warm even for him, but she would chill otherwise. Resolutely unbuttoning his shirt sleeves, Actor rolled them up and undid the top two buttons at his throat. Plan in mind, he went down the hall to the bathroom for a basin of water, towels and soap.

Returning to the room, he set the basin on the seat of the wooden desk chair and the towels beside Teresa on the bed. He moved to her armoire and retrieved a clean nightgown. This was draped on the foot of the bed. Actor set about removing the woman's filthy sodden outer clothes and scuffed and ruined leather boots, dropping them in a heap on the floor. Now he looked down at the body clad only in muddy undergarments. He should not be touching Teresa like this, but there was no one else and it was not the first time.

A warm wet wash cloth gently cleaned Teresa's face. Actor washed the right arm and then the left. Soft skin covered softly defined muscles. She had been using his hand weights and though it had not made her grotesque looking, it had enhanced her arm muscles. Glancing at the dirty chest, he had to admit it had not hurt her pectorals any either, but like all of them with the rationing and the hard physical activity they engaged in on their missions, her ribs were a bit too prominent.

He rolled her over on her side away from him, holding her over with his right hand so he could unhook her brassiere with his left. Working one-handed in these matters was no handicap for the consummate ladies man. He tried to maintain a detached frame of mind as he washed her back. He had left the blanket covering the woman from the waist down. Adjusting it a bit, he tugged her soggy cotton underpants down. Cotton again for heaven's sake. He had bought her silk undergarments, but she rarely wore them. The panties curled down to reveal a beautiful rounded bottom. He washed it too, patting it dry with a towel. Easing her onto her back again, Actor removed the bra and tossed it on the growing pile of filthy clothing. The pert breasts were smeared with drying mud. Telling himself he was a grown man in control of his emotions, he proceeded to wash the said appendages with less detachment than he would have liked.

Without clothing, Actor was able to see the muscles of Teresa's chest and stomach working hard to maintain the harsh audible breathing. For a brief moment, he wondered if he was doing the right thing by not taking her to a hospital. Shaking his head, he firmly refused to second guess his decision. He had the training and soon would have the antibiotic. With the still mumbled words in French and German that would give rise to questions about her loyalties, she was safer in the long run with him.

Actor continued washing the filth and mud from her until he was down to her legs. The cotton drawers were dropped distastefully on the pile of clothing that was, in his mind, unsalvageable. Her legs were long and sculpted. Dancer's legs. He wondered what she did to keep them in that condition and thought maybe ballet exercises. On one level, his mind admired the smooth skin of the woman's long legs as he had her upper attributes. The right thigh was marred by a pale pink scar from a previous bullet wound she had acquired who knew where. It matched the one on her rib cage he and Casino had attended to months earlier. At this rate Teresa was going to look like him. The firm body he had always strived to keep in excellent condition now held several scars of varying sizes and shapes. Strangely, Teresa's scars did not bother him other than a feeling of regret that she had placed herself in enough danger to acquire them. Maybe it was the war, but women did not seem to mind his scars either. For the most part, he tried to ignore them, but when a bed partner commented on them, he was not above playing them up as evidence of his bravery and masculinity. Most times it worked, though there was the occasional woman who thought them a distasteful disruption of his perfection.

Finishing his ministrations, Actor let the washcloth slip into the basin of water. Of their own accord, his eyes roved over the naked woman. He wondered what she would be like as a lover. _Merde!_ What was the matter with him? The woman was ill and he was thinking carnal thoughts about her. Besides, it was Teresa; too young, too irreverent, too fond of teasing him . . . so gentle, so caring, so genuinely affectionate. Enough of that, thought the con man.

Actor reached behind him for the gown. Even with the growing heat of the room, the young woman had bouts of shivering. He slipped the bunched up gown over her head and worked her arms into the sleeves. Strong hands went under her arms and raised her up to lean against his shoulder. It was far easier decided the Italian to remove a woman's clothing than to put it on her. As he tried to tug the gown down in back, Teresa awakened to a groggy cognizance.

"Actor?" she mumbled in question.

"Yes, _cara_ ," replied the con man.

A coughing spell hit her. Actor held her against him, supporting her head until she had ceased coughing and gasping for the air her lungs craved. The effort that action required of her alarmed the man, but she relaxed against him, arms going around his chest to hug him weakly.

"Teresa, we are at your flat. There is medicine coming," he tried to orient her.

A small movement of her head indicated she understood. Another bout of shivering struck her and she tried to burrow into him. Instinctively, Actor's arms tightened around her. The heat radiating off her body penetrated through his shirt. Already hot from the warmth of the room, he felt as though he was holding a furnace. When the shivering stopped and she relaxed her hold on him, he eased her back on the bed and worked her under the covers. Now he had her fairly clean, he could try to cool the fever from her.

Rising to his feet, he picked up the basin of dirty water and walked down the hall to the bathroom, Muttering in Italian self-recrimination, Actor dumped the water from the basin into the toilet and flushed it away. He left the basin on the floor and went to lean on outstretched arms on the sink. He looked up and glared reproachfully at his reflection in the mirror. What was the matter with him? This was not the first time he had entertained thoughts of a sexual nature about the woman in the bedroom. This was Teresa, the Warden's sister. She was fifteen years younger than he and could not possibly be interested in him in that way. All right, so that one time in the garden at the party that had proven to be disastrous, she had not spurned his advances. In fact she had welcomed them. He had put that down to drink. Now the woman was very ill, and he still found her desirable. Maybe he needed another trip to London. When Garrison found out about this, Actor figured his chances of a leave to London would disappear for the duration. With raised eyebrows and a sigh, he straightened, rinsed out the washcloth and the basin, and filled the basin with cool water. He carried it back to the bedroom.

Terry was restless, but not awake. Actor wet and wrung out the washcloth and laid it across her forehead, not expecting it to stay there for very long. He ended up sitting on the bed replacing the cloth as she shook it off.

Actor listened to the harsh audible wheeze with each labored breath the woman took. He grasped her shoulders, pulling her into a sitting position, flopped against his shoulder. Holding her against him, he pushed the pillows up against the headboard. With both hands under her armpits, he lifted and dragged her to be propped up against the pillows. Teresa's breathing eased slightly. Satisfied, Actor moved to sit on the chair.

It didn't take long for the girl to slide back down, her breathing worsening in the recumbent position. Actor repeated his earlier actions. After the third repetition, he decided another plan of action was needed. Not wanting to be between her and the fireplace, both for his comfort and hers, Actor walked around to the opposite side of the bed. The con man removed his shoes and slipped in under the covers, his back now against the headboard. He pulled Teresa up against him. Her color improved and her breathing eased. After a bit, she squirmed around until she was sideways, her head on his shoulder and her right arm across his chest. Actor stiffened, surprised as she snuggled tighter against him, her uppermost leg crossing over his thighs. He felt her relax. She did not wake up. Actor looked down at her a little nonplussed. He was surprised at the feelings that action had evoked. Besides a strong sense of protectiveness, there was something more. Tentatively, he curled his arms around her and rested his chin against her forehead.

GGGGG

Casino wasn't able to concentrate on his game, hence Goniff was winning for once. The safecracker looked at his watch for the umpteenth time and scowled.

"It's been hours," he griped. "He shoulda had her back here by now."

"Maybe he took her to a hospital," offered Chief from the window seat where he was watching the drive.

Goniff was worried too. "Naw, Mate," he said, tossing his hand on the table. "If 'e took 'er to a 'ospital, 'e would have called us by now."

Casino pushed his chair back abruptly. "I'm gonna call the Fox and see what's up."

"Actor ain't gonna like that," warned the Indian quietly.

"I ain't afraid of Actor," scoffed the safecracker.

Goniff exchanged a look with Chief, but stayed silent. They watched Casino stalk to the telephone and dial.

"Hey, let me talk to Actor," said Casino with no greeting. There was a pause. "Wadda yuh mean he ain't there? What about Terry?" There was another pause. "So where are they? He bringin' her back here?" This time the pause was shorter and Casino's temper was rising. "Can't you say nuthin' besides 'not here'?" His head jerked back and he looked at the receiver where he had just been hung up on.

Hanging the phone up, he turned to the other two men with an even darker scowl. "They ain't there," he said sarcastically.

"Well, maybe they're on their way 'ere," said Goniff, trying to prevent a blow up.

Casino shook his head and flung himself back in the chair. "Naw. If they was she'd'a said so." The safecracker did not want to admit to anyone that he was really worried about Terry. He didn't know it was obvious to the other two. "Anybody got the number to Terry's flat?" he asked.

"Just the Warden an' Actor," said Chief.

Casino turned to Goniff. "You been to her flat. You didn't see what her phone number is?"

"Oh, come on, Mate," said Goniff is frustration. "I was only there once. All I saw was the living room and the kitchen." He got an indignant look on his face. "I'm not a nosy Parker like you."

"Yeah, well, deal the cards," said Casino in disgust.

GGGGG

A couple hours later, a knock sounded at the front door. Actor carefully disentangled himself from Teresa's embrace without awakening the woman. Not bothering with shoes, he walked into the living room.

"Who is it?" he called out, not wanting to open the door to any surprises.

"Kit. Open up."

Actor opened the door and stood back as the redhead pushed into the apartment. She was carrying several bags.

"It's like an oven in here," she complained.

"It took you long enough," complained Actor back at her, ignoring her comment.

Kit glared at him. "What? You think I can just walk down to the corner apothecary and buy a bunch of penicillin?"

"No," admitted Actor, reining in his exasperation.

He followed the woman into the kitchen where she set the bags on the counter. A loaf of bread was tossed on the counter and she carefully removed another smaller package and handed it to the con man.

"You have a syringe?" Kit asked.

"Yes, in the aid kit from the Mansion."

"Good," said the girl. "Those are harder to come by than the penicillin." She turned her back on him and proceeded to remove groceries from the bags and put food into the refrigerator and cupboards. "I brought you something to eat. You do know how to cook, I hope."

"I am quite capable," assured Actor.

Kit turned and looked up at the tall man. "How's she doing?"

Actor shook his head. "Not much change, though the delirium seems to be lessening, possibly from being back in familiar surroundings." He thought of something. "Do you by chance have a hot plate?"

"Something wrong with the stove?" asked Kit dubiously.

"It does not fit in the bedroom," replied Actor sarcastically.

Kit wasn't sure she wanted to know why he wanted a hot plate in the bedroom. She scrounged around in a lower cabinet and pulled one out. "I don't know if it works or not. Terry found it here when she moved in. Never had a reason to use it."

"Thank you," said Actor. "I wish to get some humidity in the room. I did not want to place one of her pots in the fireplace."

That made sense now. "Yeah, she probably wouldn't appreciate you doing that. Not that her pots are great. They were here too."

The two leaned against the counter and eyed each other. The Italian was sweaty and not at all his usual neat picture of perfection. Kit was a little surprised at this side of the man. She sighed.

"If you need anything, call the Fox and tell Madge. We'll get whatever you need." She pulled the 'change' from her pocket and held it out to him. "What are you filthy rich or something?"

"Or something," hedged Actor accepting the money and sticking it in his pants pocket.

"Oh, I'm usually back by one in the morning. If you need anything after that, pound on the door across the hall. That's my flat."

"Thank you, Kit," said Actor with sincerity.

"Yeah, well, she trusts you, so I guess I can too," said Kit. "You're welcome."

Actor followed her to the door and locked it behind the woman when she went downstairs. First things first, he went back to the kitchen and placed two of the three vials of precious penicillin in the refrigerator. The remaining vial was taken into the bedroom where the aid kit was.

Teresa had slid back down in the bed and was curled into a ball on her side. Actor shook his head. It was going to be a long afternoon and night, he was afraid, anticipating he would be spending it in the bed holding her up. Working carefully, Actor drew up the first dose of the antibiotic. He paused and looked at the young woman. At least she was on her side. That would make things a bit easier. He drew the covers back and lifted the hem of her gown.

"Teresa?" he said softly, trying to arouse her just enough so she would not jump when he injected her. The medicine needed to go into her and not his hand.

An indistinguishable mumble came from the girl. Her hand reached around, trying to find the covers that kept her minimally warm.

"I have medicine, _cara_ ," said Actor. "It is going into your delightful backside," he warned.

Moving quickly now, he swabbed the area with alcohol on a cotton ball and slid the needle in, injecting as fast as possible. She bucked slightly, but he managed to keep the needle from dislodging until he was done. As he reached back to set the syringe on the night table, he heard her mutter in Italian, something about him being the great lover and that was not her idea of great love. If he had not been so worried about her, he would have laughed. For the moment, he allowed her to stay on her side.

Going back to the kitchen, Actor filled a pan with water and set it to boil on the stove. Into this he put the parts of the syringe he had rinsed out in the sink. As that was heating, he found a pot in the lower cupboards and filled that with water. The hotplate was tucked under his arm and he took it and the pot of water back to the bedroom.

There was a small desk beside the bed. Actor nudged a book to the side and placed the hotplate and pot on the desk. He followed the lamp cord down to the wall socket and plugged the hotplate in. The pot was set on the burner and the heat turned on low. The Italian realized he was probably going to die of heat and humidity. This would be worse than New York in mid-summer. Ah well, he would survive . . . at least until the Lieutenant found him and put him permanently out of his misery.

GGGGG

By midmorning of the next day, Actor had shed his shirt and was contemplating removing his trousers if he had to stay in the bed and hold Teresa up much longer. He had dozed for maybe a half hour when the woman moved, bringing him awake. Dull green eyes looked up at him with recognition, but confusion. She looked around the room.

"We are in your flat," said Actor. "You are very ill."

The eyes moved back to his face. Actor frowned. "Can you stay awake? I will get something for you to drink. You need to drink."

The girl made a small noise that could have been agreement or nothing at all. Actor moved from under her and trod out of the bedroom.

Terry tried to force her mind through the cobwebs that clogged her brain. Her flat . . . in bed with a half naked Actor? It made no sense. She struggled to remember. The last thing that came to her mind was jumping from the bridge and hitting the icy water and then nothing. She should be in Belgium. She should be dead. Maybe she was and didn't know it. Maybe she was hallucinating. If so, the hallucination walked back into the room and sat beside her on the bed. It looked like Actor. It had a scar on the left shoulder same as Actor. Damn good hallucination.

Actor watched the flow of expressions run across the woman's face. Obviously she was not totally cognizant. He reached a hand behind her neck to give her support and held a glass out to her.

"Come, Teresa, drink. It is water. You need to get fluids in you," he coaxed.

The eyes became suspicious. She sniffed at the contents of the glass and barely tasted it as he held it to her lips. It must have tasted all right to her because she tried to gulp it down.

"Slowly _, cara_ , slowly," he cautioned her.

The last thing they needed was for her to begin vomiting. She ignored him and continued to gulp. He pulled the glass away and entered into a fight with her as she tried to grab the glass back. He allowed her brief sips at a time until the glass was empty. When the last drop of water was gone, Actor eased her back against the pillows.

The eyes that watched him were wary. She was still feverish, but her breathing sounded the tiniest bit better. Actor had a feeling it would be several days yet until she was well enough to be moved to the mansion. Her eyelids started drooping.

"If the water does not trouble you," said the Italian, "I will make you some Bovril in a bit."

Her eyelids closed completely and she relaxed back into a fitful sleep. Actor studied her. For a moment he thought she had recognized him, but then again, maybe not. Well, hopefully she would not remember his being in bed with her.

GGG

The next morning, the woman's breathing was a bit less noisy. It had required another sleepless night for the Italian, holding her up against him. She had aroused a couple times, but had immediately gone back to the sleep or semi-conscious state she seemed to be in. The only reaction to the penicillin shots was a frown and batting of her hand at him.

Finally, Actor got up and stretched muscles that were not used to staying in the same position for so long. He wandered into the kitchen and set a pot of water on one burner of the stove. A jaundiced eye looked at the little moka pot. Maybe strong coffee would help him. He had only been able to catch a few minutes of sleep since this had all started.

He took the little jar of Bovil from the refrigerator and the package of finely ground coffee from the freezer. A silent chuckle escaped him. It had been years since he had made his own espresso with a moka pot. It was an art he had never forgotten. Soon the little pot was hissing and burbling. The Bovril was infusing in the pot of hot water.

An odd scraping noise, followed by a thud had him running from the kitchen. Teresa was on her hands and knees on the floor in the hall, trying to crawl alongside the wall.

"Teresa!"

Actor dropped to his knees beside her and laid a hand on her shoulder to stop her.

"What do you think you are doing?" he demanded in concern.

"Bathroom," she said with gritted teeth, trying to crawl away from him.

Actor shook his head. He rose to his feet and pulled her up to hers, leaning her against the wall. As she started to protest, he lifted her in his arms and strode to the bathroom. Setting her on her feet and keeping one arm around her, he reached behind her and flipped the toilet seat down before lifting her gown and seating her on the commode.

Terry turned dark rimmed eyes up at him, cheeks bright pink, whether from fever or something else. "Did you have to do that?"

"Yes."

Terry slowly leaned over to rest against the wall. "This is embarrassing."

He sucked in one cheek in amusement. "Get used to it, _cara_. Now you know what you have put me through."

With an effort she straightened. Actor pulled toilet paper from the roll. The girl's hand darted out and snatched it from him. "Don't you dare. I can do it myself."

Actor grinned crookedly and allowed her to finish. She needed help to get to her feet and the effort had her coughing. He held her against him and when she was done, walked her the few steps to the sink. When she had washed and dried her hands, he picked her up again and carried her back to her bed. She was propped up against the headboard.

"Do you think you can stay awake from a few minutes?" asked the Italian. "I have made some beef broth for you to drink. You need fluids and nourishment."

Terry nodded. Actor left her and returned promptly with a cup and saucer for her and one for himself. He set his on the desk and held the other out to her.

Terry dutifully sipped the Bovril from the teacup. Actor's large hands supported the cup in hers. Her eyes scanned the face that was bent over hers. The hazel eyes were weary, but a small smile adorned the mouth that was surrounded by heavy dark stubbly beard. At once she felt guilty and grateful for the attentions of the man who was caring for her.

Actor set the cup aside when she was finished and continued to sit on the bed beside her. He wondered what was going through her head as she searched his face. A small hand came up toward him. He reached for it, but she moved it away, so he dropped his back on his knee. Teresa reached an index finger out and slowly traced the line of his jaw over the stubble.

"I brought nothing of my own with me when I came to get you from the Fox," he said in explanation. "And I have an aversion to shaving my face with a blade you have used on your legs and underarms."

This admission brought the first real smile from the woman. Her hand reached down and took his, bringing it up so she could place a light dry kiss on the back in a gesture usually reserved from him to her. Actor gave her a crooked grin.

"You should leave some things here," said Terry in a weak voice.

"And have the Lieutenant accidentally discover them when he comes here?" objected Actor with humor. "I think not."

"Chicken."

"Go back to sleep."

The command was offset by a widening of the lopsided grin to the smile that always brought one to her face.

Her eyes closed of their own accord. Actor watched her a moment before moving to the chair and reaching for his cup and saucer. This was the most activity she had since arriving. It seemed to have exhausted her. At least she had fully recognized him this time.


	3. Chapter 3

Pneumonia

Chapter 3

It was into the fourth day and there was still no communication from Actor or Terry. Casino was all for going over to the Fox and demanding to know where the two were. He had tried bullying, cajoling and bullying again to get the address of Terry's flat from Goniff. Uncharacteristically, the little Limey would not answer him.

Goniff did not know what was going on, but if Actor and Terry were together and Casino showed up there would be a brawl. If Terry was hurt and their medical man was taking care of her, then having the two men ending up in jail or the stockade wouldn't do no good.

Goniff glanced at Chief, who was watching the safecracker pacing in the common room. The Indian had tried to get Casino to settle down, but that had turned into a nasty fight. Now the point man stayed on his window ledge watching outside, one eye following the volatile safecracker. A movement outside caught his attention.

"Car comin'," warned Chief. "Military."

Good, thought Casino. If the Warden was back he would hafta take care of that high and mighty Italian.

GGG

Garrison was in a foul mood. It had been a tense mission and now he returned to find the Packard missing. That meant one or all of them were AWOL again. He stormed into the house.

Three faces looked at him warily. He counted noses. "Okay, where's Actor and the Packard?"

"Don't know, Warden," said Chief. "He's been gone for four days."

"And none of you knows where he is?" demanded Garrison. They had to be covering for the con man. Well, Garrison was going to throw his sorry ass in the stockade as soon as he found the man. "Where's Terry?"

"Ain't seen 'er, Warden," said Goniff nervously.

"Yuh might want to check with the Fox," said Casino with a grin that was more sneer. "Actor got a call from there before he left."

Garrison looked at his men, one by one. Casino was smirking, not a good sign. Goniff was fidgeting and looked worried. Chief was almost as inscrutable as Actor could be. "I want to know what's going on," said the lieutenant firmly.

"Don't know, Warden," said Chief. "Kit ain't sayin'."

Garrison removed his jacket and tossed it over the stair railing. He picked up the phone and dialed the Fox. Kit answered this time.

"Where's Terry?" demanded Garrison.

"Uh, her flat," said Kit. She was familiar with Craig's temper which could be as wicked as any of her brothers'.

"Actor with her?" Garrison asked curtly.

"Yes," said Kit warily. "You want me to have him call you?"

"No! I'm going over there. And if you warn them, I'll see you shut down for good!"

GGG

Garrison pounded on the door to Terry's flat. He was about to pound on it again when it opened. Actor stood there, but Craig had never seen the fastidious confidence man look so unkempt except on a mission. His eyes were dark circles. The usually crisp white shirt had sleeves rolled partway up his arms, the tails out and wrinkled, the front unbuttoned. The man was in his stocking feet and his hair was uncombed. There was a three days growth of dark heavy beard on his face. Craig somehow had the idea Actor had not slept in those three days either. Heat radiated from the apartment. The Italian liked his comfort, but not this hot.

"Come in, Lieutenant," said Actor wearily. "She's in the bedroom."

Craig pushed past him and strode to the bedroom where he pulled up short. He could hear Terry's breathing from the doorway. She was propped up lethargically in the bed, face gray. She looked up at the movement of his entrance and recognized her brother, but it was too much effort to talk, which would end in an argument. She just closed her eyes. The room was humid. A hotplate was on top of her desk with a pan of water simmering on it.

"What happened?" asked Garrison quietly, all his anger gone.

"My understanding is she spent time in a river in Belgium. Her condition was too poor when I picked her up to try to take her to the Mansion. This was closer," said Actor in a low monotone.

"Why isn't she in a hospital?" asked Craig.

"She has been in and out of delirium. Sometimes English, sometimes French, sometimes German. What she says is not something that should be overheard in a hospital."

"A base hospital?" Craig looked at the older man, not understanding.

"I don't know who she was with, nor do I care at this point," said Actor resignedly. "It wasn't the Army."

Garrison shot him a questioning look.

"She goes in with other groups. Like Christine does. SOE, Maquis, Free French, Resistance."

Garrison took a few steps closer to the bed, studying his sister. "She going to be all right?"

"I believe so," said Actor. "She is making a little bit of progress."

"What are you treating her with?" asked Craig.

"Penicillin."

Garrison looked at him with a frown. "We were close to being out when I left. Where did you get penicillin?"

"Black market," said Actor. "Where else?"

Garrison rounded on his second. "You left her like this to get penicillin from the Black Market?"

Actor's frayed nerves parted and he exploded. "What kind of idiot do you take me for?" he demanded. "The Gallagher woman is sometimes good for something. I gave her the money and she procured the medicine."

" _Basta_ ," came a weak voice the men barely heard. "Both of you."

Actor shot a venomous look at his superior officer and strode to the bedside, putting a restraining hand on Teresa's shoulder that kept her down with very little effort. Her right arm bent up so fingers could weakly grasp his wrist. Actor could easily have twisted from her grip, but he sat on the bed beside her instead, allowing her to hold onto him. The still dull green eyes locked silently with his hazel ones for a moment before turning to the man who approached from the other side of the bed.

Terry reached her left hand out to her brother. Garrison took her hand in his, shocked at the frailty of her grasp, and eased a hip on the bed beside her. She smiled with pale lips in a paler face.

"Ease up," she struggled to say with a weak voice. "I would be dead if it wasn't for him." She tightened her grip as much as she could on both men and spoke to Craig firmly in Lakota. "He is a good man."

Garrison took a long breath. Now that he had time to view things more calmly, he could see that Actor had been doing everything in his power to take care of Terry. As a commanding officer, it went against what he was taught to acknowledge that and to thank the older man, but as a brother to the woman in the bed, he felt the man deserved it. The now direct piercing look in the green eyes that were focused unwavering on his told Garrison the woman would accept no less.

Craig turned his head toward Actor. The con man was looking straight ahead, lower jaw jutting out as when he was upset and unwilling to verbalize it.

"Yes," said Garrison in English. "He is a good man." Actor turned his head to look at the younger man, openly wary. "And I thank you for taking care of Terry."

Actor looked away, not focusing on either sibling. Terry's hand loosened its grip on his wrist and slipped down into his palm. His fingers closed over hers.

"I still want to know what you were doing," Craig turned his attention to the woman.

She was getting very tired and merely shook her head. Her mind was too slow right now to come up with a con that might fool her brother, but definitely not the Italian.

"I know what she was doing. I know where she was doing it, but I do not know whom she was working for," said Actor, displeasure evident in his voice.

"When I think you need to know . . . both of you . . . I will tell you," whispered the girl.

Actor turned narrowed eyes on her. "And if you had died? Do you think it would have been fair to the Lieutenant – to your family – to leave them wondering what had happened to you and never know?"

Terry forced her eyes open and a faint smile touched the corners of her mouth. "You are family too . . . all four of you. And no it isn't fair, but this is war, and right now it is necessary you don't know. Just as we don't know what he," she flicked eyes at her brother, "was doing in Yugoslavia this time." Her eyes closed for a second, then opened to move between the two men. "I want to sleep now. Quit fighting. Okay?"

The men sat still until her breath evened out in sleep before rising and leaving the room. Out in the living room, Garrison paused, one hand on his hip while the other raked through his short tawny hair. He turned his head to look at Actor. The confidence man stood silent under his stare.

"She's done this before?" asked Craig.

Actor gave a shrug of one shoulder. "Not like this. She has had injuries, but nothing that could not be stitched or doctored."

"How long has this been going on?" asked her brother, wondering what was wrong with his powers of observation that he was not aware of any of it.

"As far as I am aware, at least since she took – training." The last word was spoken as though leaving a bad taste in the usually elegant man's mouth.

Craig shook his head. He glanced up at the confidence man. "You get any sleep?"

"Not much," admitted Actor. "I am fine," he deliberately parroted Garrison's favorite phrase with humor.

It was not lost on the younger officer. He grinned, "Yeah, I can see that." The grin faded. "I can watch her for awhile. There's a spare bedroom. Why don't you get some sleep?" He was blissfully unaware that the Italian was more familiar with Terry's flat than he was.

Actor nodded, knowing if he stayed up much longer he would be of little use to either of the Garrisons. Without another word, he went into the other bedroom, removed his outer clothes, slipped face down under the covers with his feet hanging off the end of the mattress, and was asleep as soon as his head touched the pillow.

Garrison decided coffee was in order, if there was any. He wandered into the kitchen. There were dirty dishes in the bottom of the sink and stale breadcrumbs on the counter. Actor must have really been tired. The thing that caught his attention was the little moka pot still sitting on a cold burner. He had not seen one since the winters spent in Italy with their aunt. He wondered where Terry had found one, or if it was a gift from Actor. He really wasn't sure he understood or believed the two of them, though he found theirs a somewhat odd friendship by the nature of their personalities.

Curiously, Craig unscrewed the top half of the little aluminum pot. There were spent cold coffee grounds in the basket that smelled okay and did not show signs of mold. It also smelled like real coffee. Not one to waste what he knew could be reused, Garrison filled the bottom reservoir with fresh water, screwed the pot back together and set it back on the burner, turning the stove on high. Five minutes later, he had a cup of only slightly weak triple espresso. Blowing on the liquid to cool it, he went back into Terry's room and took up the vigil on her desk chair.

A couple hours later, Terry rolled onto her back and opened her eyes. They sought out the man on the chair. Garrison put down one of her books and stared back at her.

"Hi," he said.

"Hi," she rasped back with a cough. Working with her elbows she tried to sit up against the headboard. Craig adjusted the pillow behind her and handed her the glass of water that was on the night table.

After a sip of water, followed by a harsh cough, Terry eyed her brother. "So where'd you hide the body?"

Was she still delirious? "What body?" asked Garrison cautiously.

"Actor's," said Terry. "I figure I'm too sick for you to strangle, but he isn't."

That brought a twitch to the corners of Garrison's mouth. "He's in the other bedroom. The thought did cross my mind."

"He's been good," assured Terry.

"I figure he knows better than to not be," intoned Garrison.

"I'm your sister, remember," she reminded him.

"How do you feel?" Craig changed the subject.

"Like crap," she replied, and coughed as if to emphasize that point.

"Need anything?"

Terry nodded. "Bathroom."

Craig's eyebrows furrowed. "Can you make it that far?"

"Probably with help," replied the girl.

"What have you been doing?" asked Garrison in curiosity.

Terry's cheeks turned pink. "That idiot Italian has been carrying me." She coughed. "It's embarrassing."

Garrison had to chuckle. "You know what they say about payback."

"Yeah, and I think he enjoys every moment of it."

Absolutions attended to and Terry tucked back into bed, Garrison probed for answers.

"He know what you were doing?" The question was asked casually.

Terry knew what her brother was doing and decided to give him a little bit of information to hopefully satisfy him. "No. He asks. I don't tell him. I don't want him involved in this. Or any of the others for that matter."

"How did you end up in a river in Belgium?" For a few moments, Craig thought she was not going to answer.

"I think we had a mole," she finally said. "I lost Pierre. He was a good leader. The Krauts weren't taking prisoners. They killed him on the bridge. I figured I had a choice of death by schmeisser or take the chance of drowning. I jumped."

"Who were you working for?" asked Craig.

Terry gave him a long look. "The good guys. I kinda have my fingers in a few pies."

"Why?"

"'Cause you think I'm not good enough."

"You're good. And aren't you a little old for that kind of thinking?"

Terry shrugged. "How come you were in Yugoslavia, without them this time?" she asked with a jerk of her chin toward the other bedroom.

Garrison contemplated before answering. "Randy."

Terry sighed. "Rescue mission or helping him."

"Helping him. He was dealing with a crotchety old resistance leader we have had dealings with in the past." Craig frowned. "They wanted to send Actor. I refused. I don't want to take him from the group."

Terry nodded, eyes growing heavy again. She forced herself awake. "You let them do it once and the next thing you know the group is split up. I think they only work well with you and each other."

"What do you think of Randy's con man?" asked Craig.

"Do I have to be polite?" replied Terry.

"No. I have the same outlook."

"Why do you think Richards sends me in with them sometimes?"

"Better you than Actor."

Terry gave a snort that ended in a choked cough. "Thanks," she wheezed.

Craig grinned.

"Can we get me out of here soon?" asked the girl seriously. "I like my flat, but the bathroom is closer in the Mansion."

Garrison nodded. "If you think you can stand twenty minutes on the backseat of the Packard, we'll try for tomorrow."

"I think I can make it."

"Actor and I can get you downstairs from here and back upstairs in the Mansion."

"Good."

GGG

Terry slept intermittently throughout the night. Craig remained in the chair until he grew tired of his head bobbing down as he fell asleep. When Terry rolled over, he slapped her feet and told her to pull them up. He curled up across the foot of the bed. Terry yanked one of the pillows out from under her and tossed it at him. As he beat it into a shape comfortable for him, he frowned at it.

"Where did you get satin sheets?" he asked.

"Actor," replied the girl. "He did it to annoy me. Figured he didn't have to know I use them."

"Think he knows now."

"Umm."

"I can put a stop to this."

"Naw," said Terry settling in. "It's his money. He wants to waste it on me, let him."

"Moka pot?"

"Mine. Found it in a junk store." Terry nudged him with her foot. "Shut up and go to sleep."

Garrison snorted in reply and did just that.

GGG

Chief was already sitting in his window seat, nursing a cup of ersatz coffee, when Casino thumped down the stairs the next morning. The safecracker glanced at the closed door to the Lieutenant's office. There was no light shining underneath.

"Warden come back?"

"Nope."

"You know it's 'ard to find a place to hide a body as big as Actor's now don't you?" Goniff came out from around the stairs with a steaming cup of tea and a couple biscuits.

Casino made a face. No breakfast made this morning from the looks of it. He hated it when Terry was gone and there was no fresh bread baking or eggs cooking.

"Warden ain't gonna do nothin' to Actor. Nothin' permanent anyway," intoned Chief in a bored voice.

"I would if she was my sister," growled the crackman.

"Well she ain't your sister."

"Why don't you just butt out, Injun," snarled Casino, already looking for a fight.

"Why don't you just quit yer bellyachin'?" replied Chief in a reasonable tone.

Casino started towards him. Chief just was not in the mood for a fight, so he casually flicked his blade open and smiled. It brought Casino up short. He eyed the blade warily.

"Aw, you just ain't no fun anymore anyway," grumbled the safecracker and turned toward the kitchen to get something to eat.

Goniff grinned at Chief and watched him carefully balance his coffee cup on his upturned knee while he closed the knife and tucked it back in its sheath.

GGG

Actor stretched stiff muscles and rose from his bed. The clock said 8 am. He had gone to bed at ten. First things first, he went down to the bathroom and took care of his absolutions. A look in the mirror over the sink had him shaking his head. The dark circles under his eyes were less pronounced, but the beard and mustache were growing rapidly. He scratched at his jaw, shrugged in resignation, and went to check on Teresa. This brought a crooked grin to his face. Terry was asleep on her side. The Warden was sleeping on his back across the foot of the bed, one leg hanging down, the other bent out lying on Teresa's feet. With another shake of his head, the Italian went to the kitchen.

A half hour later, the kitchen was reasonably clean and there were three cups of coffee steaming on the counter beside a small bowl with a poached egg in it. Satisfied, Actor picked up the coffee cups with a finger through the handles and the bowl in the other. In the bedroom, he stood at the foot of the bed, surveying the siblings.

"Lieutenant?" he said in a normal tone.

Craig's eyes flashed open, hand reaching for a gun that wasn't there. He slumped when he saw it was Actor.

"Coffee?" offered the con man, a small smile tweaking his mouth.

"Yeah, thanks."

Craig sat up and took one of the cups from his second. Terry opened her eyes and rolled onto her back.

"I brought you coffee and an egg," said Actor. "Do you think you might be able to eat that?"

"I think so," replied the girl. She frowned. "First I need the loo."

Actor set the remaining two mugs and the dish on the desk, turned to the girl and held his arms out.

"Oh no you don't. Not you," said Terry firmly. "Craig."

Garrison made a face and took another quick sip of coffee before handing the cup to Actor. "I'm not carrying you," he warned his sister.

"Just get me to the bathroom," the girl wheezed out.

Upon their return, Actor was still standing beside the bed. He helped Garrison get the girl settled up against the headboard.

"I assure you, Lieutenant," said Actor solemnly, as he handed Teresa the bowl and a spoon, "I have been the epitome of discretion in caring for your sister."

Both Garrisons stared at him in disbelief that he had uttered those words.

"Oh please, Actor," said Garrison with a shake of his head. "It's too early in the morning. Give it a rest."

Terry choked on a laugh and ended up with a paroxysm of coughing that necessitated the Italian grabbing the bowl of egg to keep them from wearing it. When the fit had passed, she collapsed back against the headboard, gasping for breath.

"I swear . . . he's going . . . to kill me," she said to her brother with a grin.

Actor straightened and walked toward the door.

"Where are you going?" asked Craig.

"I am simply leaving you two in peace," he answered with dignity.

"Actor, get back here and sit down. We have business."

Actor cocked his head in a nod and walked back to the bed. Terry patted the mattress beside her. She was ignored and the desk chair twirled around so the con man could straddle it, facing the lieutenant.

Garrison sobered. "She wants to go back to the Mansion. You think it's safe. Can we do it without making her worse?"

Actor nodded. "If we wait until the peak of warmth in the afternoon and bundle her up, we can carry her down these stairs and up the ones at the mansion. Yes, I think it would be safe enough."

"Good," said Terry.

Her eyes closed wearily. She did not see the concerned looks exchanged between her brother and Actor.


	4. Chapter 4

Pneumonia

Chapter 4

As it turned out, Craig had to carry his blanket wrapped sister down the stairs from her flat. The stairway was too narrow for both big men to descend side-by-side with the girl between them. She was carefully placed in the back seat of the Packard, leaning against her brother. Actor did the driving.

Garrison had placed a call to the Mansion and instructed his men to get Terry's room ready. He had firmly squelched the loud attempts by Casino to find out what was going on. Not for the first time, Craig wished he could give even a simple request like this without getting some kind of flak from the safecracker.

As Actor pulled the car to a stop next to the Mansion steps and shut off the engine, the three cons spilled from the doorway and stood on the landing. Actor stepped around the front of the car and joined Garrison at the passenger door to help Teresa out of the car. The girl propped herself against the car and engaged in a fit of harsh coughing that left her weaker than the ride had.

"Need help Warden?" Chief called down.

"No," replied Craig. "We have her."

Terry straightened and slipped an arm around the neck of both men. They lifted her in a chair hold and made their way up the steps. The men preceded them into the house.

"You look like shit," said Casino to the girl. "Again."

Terry eyed him. "Sorry, I forgot to put lipstick on this morning," she wheezed.

She was set on her feet at the bottom of the stairs, her arms staying around the necks of her brother and the Italian.

"I will take her up," said Actor quietly to Garrison.

Craig nodded and ducked out from under Terry's arm as Actor bent to slip his free arm under her legs and heft her up. For once, she did not object; at least not too strenuously.

"What's with you carrying me all the time?" she asked in a weak voice in his ear.

Actor smiled. "Simply that it is far easier to carry you than pick up your broken body at the bottom of the stairs."

" _Culo_ ," she said barely above a whisper.

" _Asino_ ," he replied in her ear. "Why can you not get it right?" He frowned, "which reminds me, it is time for you shot."

"You just like my . . . _culo_ ," she accused him.

"Almost as much as you like mine," he murmured to her.

"Noticed that, huh?"

"Difficult not to," he stifled a grin of amusement.

As he mounted the stairs he realized just how much weight she had lost through fever and lack of food. She had never been heavy, but now they would have to work to build her up to a healthy level again.

The four men watched from the bottom of the stairs.

"What happened, Warden?" asked Chief before Casino could open his mouth.

Garrison shook his head. "Says she jumped into a river in Belgium to keep from being killed. Her partner was killed."

"So 'ow come the army didn't take care o' 'er?" asked Goniff.

"Apparently she wasn't working for the army."

"Then who was she workin' for this time around?" Casino wanted to know.

"She won't say," said Garrison in a tone that said he was done with this conversation. "There's a bag of medicine and things still in the car," he added, turning to Casino. "Why don't you go get it, and then you and Goniff go back to Terry's flat and get the jeep."

Goniff piped up before Casino could make any other remarks that Terry didn't want her brother to know about. "Sure, Warden," he said cheerfully. "Anything you want us to bring back from Brandonshire?"

"Not that I can think of. Thank you, Goniff."

"Sure Warden."

Actor set Teresa on her feet beside the bed. The covers had been pulled down and the pillows fluffed up to make an inviting nest. One thing was missing.

"You gave up satin sheets," remarked Actor archly as the girl sat down and swung her feet up.

"Practicality over comfort," she replied. "The bathroom's closer here."

The weakening of her voice was not lost on the con man, but he made no mention of it. Instead, he tucked the covers around her. The dark circled slightly sunken eyes followed his face as he moved.

"Get some rest, _caro_ ," she said.

"I have and I will," he replied with clinical detachment. "After your medicine."

Goniff trotted into the room with the bag of medicine and the aide kit. He studied the woman in the bed and could not recall her looking any worse, even when she had almost been raped. Sunken green eyes looked back at him.

"You don't have to tell me I look like . . ."

"I weren't, Love," the pickpocket interrupted her.

He fidgeted a bit. Actor had taken the bag and was drawing up the medicine in the syringe. The con man seemed grumpy, besides looking like _shite_ himself.

"You need anything?" Goniff asked the girl. "A cuppa, a sandwich? I could make up somethin' for you."

Terry smiled. "Thanks, Love, but right now I just want him to finish so I can go back to sleep. Seem to be doing a lot of that lately."

Goniff nodded. "Well, you need your rest. We gotta get you better."

Actor looked at the blond man in annoyance. He held up the syringe, needle pointed upward. "Goniff, she might like a little privacy."

"Oh, uh, sure enuf there, Terry," Goniff stuttered. "I'll come see you later."

"Okay, Goniff," said Terry with an affectionate smile.

Actor waited for the slight man to leave the room. With a shake of his head, he turned back to the girl who rolled on her side facing away from him.

Terry waited for him to get done administering the injection before she said wryly, "Masochist."

"Merely one of the less pleasant tasks of being a personal physician," he replied.

He again settled her in the bed before picking up the syringe to go downstairs to sterilize it.

"Actor?" Terry said seriously.

He paused and smiled down at her. "What _cara?_ "

"I really do appreciate everything you have been doing for me."

He gave a tired crooked grin. "I know."

Actor descended the stairs and started toward the kitchen. He did not see Garrison look at Chief and jerk his head to follow the con man. Reluctantly, Chief followed Garrison. The set of the man's shoulders was stiff with anger. Chief had figured by now the Warden and Actor would have had it out about Terry's activities. Obviously not out enough. It was a good thing Casino and Goniff had just left to get the jeep. The safecracker would have been certain to stir things into an argument.

Actor went about getting a pan of water, rinsing the pieces of syringe, and placing them in the pan. He moved around the kitchen table and used the gas hob to start the water heating. Garrison had taken a seat at the head of the table. Chief sat to his right. Actor turned and stood beside the stove watching, but not offering anything.

"Okay," said Garrison. "Apparently all of you are in on whatever my sister has been doing. Was anyone going to tell me about it?"

Actor took out a cigarette and lit it before answering. "Teresa is an adult. She requested we keep what little we know from you. We were simply respecting her wishes. If she wanted you to know, it was her place to tell you not ours."

"And if she died?" asked Garrison, pinning Actor with a hard look.

"She could die with us too," said Chief. "And you aren't gonna stop her from doing what she wants."

Garrison looked back and forth between the two men. "So why is she doing this? And who is she with?"

Actor thought it prudent not to reveal what he had seen in the basement of the Blue Fox. Something besides that did bother him. He took a puff on his cigarette.

"Possibly we pushed her into this," he suggested.

"How?" asked Chief, before Garrison could answer.

"I know I have told her many times she should stay here and take care of the house, and us, and not go on missions with us." He looked at Garrison. "You are just as guilty as I am in that respect."

Garrison chewed on a cheek and nodded. "And Terry is one, if you tell her she can't do something, she'll do it." He frowned. "You said you think she's working for SOE and other groups?"

Actor nodded. "She is not confining herself to France. This time it was Belgium. She has been there before. France, Italy, and who knows where else."

"What about this other group she goes in with?" asked Chief. "This Lt. Johnson. Don't think that's too safe either."

"No," agreed Craig. "I've been in with him and his group. They don't have the 'expertise' you guys have."

"And, most likely, they do not have the – interest – in her well-being that we have," said Actor.

"That's true," Garrison admitted. "Their con man is an idiot."

Chief grinned and even Actor smiled.

"So why can't you stop them from sending her in with them?" asked the expert confidence man. "I asked her and she said no."

Garrison pondered how much he wished to tell Actor. The man would figure it out soon enough anyway. "Because if she refuses to work with that group, they will break up this group."

The two men stared at him.

Actor's anger was rising, but kept in check. "Meaning, they would put me with Johnson's group. Teresa is protecting _me_?"

"Not exactly," hedged Garrison carefully. "You guys have become a great team together." That was something he tried not to admit too much because he didn't want them complacent and it wasn't the army way. "We don't want them to break us up."

"And you knew this?" asked Actor in disbelief. "You put your sister in danger to keep the team together?"

Chief was watching to see the officer's answer.

Garrison swallowed back the immediate urge to snap back at the con man for that. But Actor was right. "Yes," he sighed. "It was a joint decision by Terry and me."

The Italian frowned and calmed himself. "I don't understand you. You would allow Teresa to continue when you know going in with Lt. Johnson is dangerous for her?"

Garrison looked at the older man. He realized all of his men were close to Terry, but none as close as Actor, just by virtue of their roles together. "And you've been able to stop her?"

Chief watched a communicating look pass between the two men.

"No." Actor chewed on a cheek. "If anything, I am probably more responsible than you for her participation with that and the other groups. I have pushed her to quit. It may be I have only succeeded in pushing her to do more."

"If she didn't get some kinda satisfaction outta doin' it," said Chief, "she woulda quit a long time ago."

Both men looked at the Indian in surprise at that profound statement. And both knew he was right.

"You ain't gonna stop her, Warden."

Garrison knew if he did try to have her removed from England, she would disappear onto the Continent and no one would find her. That knowledge was shared by the other two men. The sound of boiling water broke their reverie. Actor turned and lowered the flame under the pot. It would have to boil for at least twenty minutes.

Craig had another concern. "How did she end up at the Fox and not here?"

Chief remained silent. He didn't know for sure and wondered if Actor did. In any case, the con man would be the best person to answer that.

"I don't know, Warden," replied the Italian. "She has not told me. I imagine at some point she was aware enough to tell whoever was transporting her to take her to the Fox. She was probably afraid of the reaction to her condition if she came straight here. And depending on who was transporting her, she would not bring strangers to an off limits base."

That made sense to Garrison. The con man deftly changed the subject.

"Someone needs to sit with Teresa," said Actor.

"I'll do it," offered Chief. "You two been doin' it for awhile. Yuh probably need a break."

Garrison nodded.

"If her breathing worsens, prop her up against the headboard," instructed Actor. "If that doesn't help, get me."

GGG

Chief looked at the woman in the bed. She didn't look too healthy to him. Her color was pale and her face thin. Actor had told him to watch her breathing. It was labored, but not too bad. He had seen the Warden worse. Chief was used to sitting with the Warden, but not so much with Terry, though he had done it in the past.

He hated sitting still, but he was afraid if he moved around too much, he'd wake her up. Still, he very slowly stood and moved silently to the window. Carefully, he eased a hip up on the ledge. From there he could look outside, but still see Terry without having to get up.

The grass was green and the trees were leafing out. A strong breeze made the leaves dance. The sky through the branches was turning a nasty shade of dark gray though blue could be seen if he looked up. A front was coming in again. So much for the summer-like weather. Back to the cold and wet. Chief sat and watched the gray clouds move in to cover the sky. An hour later, the first rain drops splashed against the glass. The sprinkle turned to downpour with a loud clap of thunder.

The woman on the bed startled awake. She glanced around, relaxing when she saw she was in her bedroom. It was Chief in the room with her. The young man got up and approached the bed.

"You need anything?" he asked.

"Water?" broached Terry.

Chief came around the bed and helped her to sit up, giving her a glass of water that was on the night table beside her.

"You get first watch?" smiled Terry wearily.

"Somethin' like that," replied Chief.

"I'm fine, you don't have to sit with me. But I appreciate that you have."

The way she looked with lank hair, dark-circled eyes and pale skin, made him question that statement from her.

"Wasn't doin' nuthin' anyway," said Chief.

Another clap of thunder rattled the windows and the wind whistled. Terry glanced back toward the window, though she couldn't see out it from the bed. Just the sound gave her chills for some reason and she shivered. Normally she liked a good thunder storm.

"Want a fire?" asked Chief.

Terry nodded. She watched the Indian hunker down in front of the fireplace and start to build a fire with the wood in the box beside it.

"Bad weather," said Terry in a weak voice. "You guys got a mission?"

Chief chuckled. It seemed like they always got missions in the worst weather. "Naw. At least they haven't called the Warden yet."

"Yet," smiled Terry.

Chief was still sitting on his heels watching the flames get higher when the sound of heavy footsteps coming up the stairs at a rapid rate reached them. A second later Actor was at the door.

The big Italian stopped short and looked into the amused eyes of the younger man.

"I thought it was getting colder and she would need a fire," Actor said. "I see you thought that also."

"I can take care of her too yuh know, Actor," said Chief.

"I never thought otherwise," Actor smoothly asserted.

Terry tried to stifle a laugh and it set her coughing. Both men looked at her worriedly. She waved a hand that she was all right.

"And it is time for her injection," continued the con man.

Now Terry glared at him. " _Ti piace solo attaccare gli aghi nel mio culo_ ," she said accusingly.

"So you keep telling me," he brushed it off.

Chief was grinning at the two. "She callin' you an ass again?" he asked the Italian, recognizing the last word.

"No," smiled Actor insincerely, "and she got it right this time."

Terry managed to choke down a laugh at the unexpected admission that he liked sticking needles in her backside and knowing the statement was not about her vocabulary.

GGGGG

Downstairs, in the lower common room, Casino got up from his solitaire game and strolled over to lean a shoulder against the jamb in the open doorway of the Warden's office. He stood watching the officer until Garrison finally looked up.

"Yes, Casino?" he asked.

"Yer slippin'," smirked the safecracker. "You could'a waited until this afternoon to send us to get the jeep. Then one of us would'a been soakin' wet."

Craig gave a small smile. "I'm sorry, Casino. My mind was on other things. But I will remember that the next time. God forbid there is a next time."

"Oh, there'll be a next time, Warden," said Casino with certainty. "She's stubborn. Must run in your family." The glare on Garrison's face made him decide to leave, but he couldn't resist one more barb. "Now when she starts blowin' up bridges and big guns, then we'll really know she's your sister."

Garrison's eyes narrowed. "If I find out you've been teaching her how to use explosives, you'll find yourself tied to one of those bridges or big guns."

"Not me, Lieutenant," Casino shot back. "I remember the last time she was around explosives. I ain't lettin' her anywhere near 'em."

"You better not." Garrison's face relaxed. "Besides, you wouldn't be safe with her and a bomb."

"That's for sure."

Garrison wasn't sure he wanted this conversation to continue, so he put on his army face and asked, "Isn't it your turn to cook?"

"Yeah." Casino made a sour face. "Warden you know I hate to cook."

"You like to eat?" asked Craig, stifling a grin.

"Yeah." Casino eyed he warily.

Garrison now gave an insincere smile. "Then I suggest you get cooking. The rest of us want to eat too."

The safecracker gave a snort and headed slowly toward the kitchen.

GGG

Garrison brought a plate of food up to his sister a couple hours later. He set the tray on her lap and took the towel off the plate, watching with amusement as the girl studied the offering.

"What is it?" she asked cautiously.

"K-rations."

"Hey, it's my kitchen," objected the girl. "Where have these been hiding?"

"Army sent a box the other day."

Craig grinned as Terry picked up a fork and tentatively moved some of the food around.

"I thought K-rations had a Hershey chocolate with them?" she asked hopefully.

"Goniff," was the reply. Nothing more needed to be said.

Watching his sister take a cautious nibble of the canned food was amusing. Her nose wrinkled and she swallowed hard.

"Whose doing the cooking?" she asked.

"Casino today," replied Garrison, hitching a hip on the end of her bed.

"He must not know anything about adding spices," remarked the girl.

Craig couldn't resist adding, "It's Goniff's turn again tomorrow."

"Uh, don't the other two take a turn?"

"It was unanimous among them they don't want to eat Chief's weeds. And Actor's response was 'we had cooks when I was growing up'."

"Figures."

Craig stayed sitting on the bed, watching his sister pick at the food. He had seen displaced people on the roads in France who looked better than she did.

"You probably came close to dying," he said quietly.

Closer than you think thought Terry. "No," she denied. "I just caught a little cold is all." She turned her eyes up to see the flash in the blue-green hazel one. "Okay, a big cold."

"I'd tell you to stop, but if I didn't already know you won't, I've been informed of it," said Garrison.

Terry stirred the food around on her plate. "Don't be mad at them, Craig. They've been trying to help me."

"It still makes me mad they didn't tell me."

Terry shrugged a shoulder. "Would you want to get in the middle between you and I?" she asked, looking down at her plate.

"Probably not," admitted her brother.

"Are you going to stop some of the things you're doing? And don't tell me you're just following orders. You had to agree to these assignments in the first place."

"I'm Army," objected Craig.

"Yes, you're Army, Monty's Air Force, and I'm not even sure what I am." She set the fork down. "The bottom line is we are fighting this war the only way we can. All of us."

"Women shouldn't be doing this," said Garrison, stubbornly.

"Women shouldn't be sent to death camps. Women shouldn't be forced to see their children killed in front of their eyes. Guess what? Women are doing what they feel they have to do, whether it's fight with the resistance over here, or work in factories building airplanes and boats and munitions in the States. Personally, I don't like factory work."

Craig gave her a wry look and shook his head. There was a tiny grin teasing the girl's mouth. She knew she had him and she knew he knew she had him.

A loud crack of thunder rattled the windows and the steady downpour increased in intensity. Lightening lit the room in a bright white flash.

"Looks like another round," said Terry.

"At least as bad as this is, they can't send us over to the Continent. Even the subs aren't going out."

"Good. You guys need some down time."

Garrison wasn't sure he agreed with that. The same storm that prevented them from being sent on a mission also prevented the men for going to The Doves to let off steam. The fights would be breaking out soon.


	5. Chapter 5

Pneumonia

Chapter 5

The storm continued with three more days of heavy bouts of wind, rain, thunder and lightning. Finally it settled down to a steady pouring rain. The front had moved onto the Continent, still preventing flights but allowing the subs to resume their missions. In doing that, it ended the enforced down time of the group; something Garrison was almost relieved by. He had broken up three fights between Casino and Chief, one between Goniff and Casino, and one between Casino and Actor. It was time to put the volatile safecracker back to work. The phone call informing the lieutenant he was to report to Major Schaeffer's office in Brandonshire, if nothing else, gave Garrison an escape from the Mansion.

Three hours later, Craig returned with the familiar briefcase cuffed to his wrist. Three pair of eyes followed his silent disappearance into his office. After removing the cuff from his wrist, Craig made a phone call to London and then went upstairs to inform his sister, assuming his second would be with her. He found Actor just putting up the syringe after giving another dose of antibiotic. The two people looked at Garrison, on the alert at the look on his face. Whatever it was wasn't going to be good. Craig sat down at the foot of Terry's bed and waited for Actor to take a seat on the desk chair, facing him. This was going to be a problem.

"We have a mission," said Garrison in his military demeanor.

"Where?" asked Terry.

"Spain," replied Garrison.

Terry signed. "You're going to need him." She gave a small nod toward the multi-lingual confidence man.

"For how long?" asked Actor.

"At least a week."

"She cannot be left alone for that long," objected Actor.

"Nothing we can do," said Craig. "I called Archbury. They're still full of casualties. We don't have time to take her to London. We leave in two hours."

"From where?" asked the Italian sharply.

"Archbury. A plane to Malta and a sub to Spain."

"Chris?" asked Terry.

"Still gone."

Actor looked questioningly at Garrison. "I thought Spanish was listed as one of your languages on your dossier?"

"Not Castellan," replied the officer, pronouncing the word wrong. "I speak Mexican Spanish. We had migrant cowboys on the ranch for a couple years."

"Well, simply try to remember double letters are pronounced distinctly."

Garrison frowned. He wasn't sure if he was capable of speaking correctly in Spain, but at the same time he knew Terry could not be left alone yet; especially with her frequent coughs and sunken dark eyes.

Terry seemed to be thinking about it. "Okay, get me downstairs. I can stay on the couch in your office. It's close to a bathroom. Kit will have to come over once a day to feed and water the chickens. She can bring me food. I'll manage."

"That is unacceptable, Teresa," objected Actor. "You cannot be alone except for a few minutes a day. I won't allow that."

Terry switched to escalating Italian before her brother could open his mouth. "Will you stop? We don't have much choice and you are not my father so don't tell me what you will allow me to do!"

The con man's face took on a severe expression of anger. He replied harshly in Italian, "I most certainly am not your father and I resent the implication of that statement." He rose from the chair and strode from the room. The Garrisons exchanged looks.

"I only got one word of that," said Craig, deceptively calm. "I hope you didn't just call him that."

"I did," replied his sister with regret.

"Great. Big help, Terry," growled Garrison. "Okay, let me go talk to him."

"Careful. I think he'll probably bite right about now," said Terry.

"No thanks to you." Garrison ran a hand through his hair in frustration. "I don't like it any better that he does, but we'll get you set up downstairs before we leave."

Terry nodded and coughed.

GGG

Terry came awake to a room dimly lit by the fire in her fireplace and the blackout curtains drawn shut. Her head turned sharply to look at the clock on the desk. Oh crap, she had slept the entire two hours. Had they left already?

"Craig!" Her voice did not have its usual strength and the effort had her coughing.

Garrison entered the bedroom. Relieved, the girl started to fold back the covers to get up.

"Stay there," said Craig.

Terry froze. "You're going to leave me up here?" she asked skeptically.

"Yes," replied her brother. "Actor's staying."

"But you need him," argued the girl.

"I've gotten along without him before." Craig gave her a conspiring look. "Just don't answer the phone. And he can't either."

One of Terry's eyebrows rose.

"Well, if I keep leaving Actor behind G-2 will think I don't need him at all."

"So take him and leave one of the other guys behind," suggested his sister. "Preferably not Goniff. I don't think I can go five days without eating."

Garrison almost laughed at that. "Actor is the medical person. He's the one to stay with you."

"Have you told him that?"

"Yes, he has," said a voice from the doorway. The con man stepped into the room. His barriers were definitely up.  
"I don't mind," said Terry, taking in the Italian's countenance, "But he probably does."

Garrison did not need a continuation of this conversation or an argument. "Terry, this is the way it is, so do us all a favor and shut up."

"Lieutenant," Actor objected automatically at the disrespectful order. The young woman was annoying right now, but she was still a woman and should not be spoken too in that manner.

The girl's hand went up to forestall anything more from the Italian, but she kept her mouth firmly shut.

GGG

Actor stood at the base of the stairs and watched the men leaving. As usual there was a remark from Casino asking why Beautiful got to sit this one out. Still unhappy with the conversation between himself and Teresa, the Italian didn't even answer the cracksman. When the door closed behind them, he went back into the kitchen. He had eaten with the others, but Teresa had not received any supper yet.

A large pot was still on the hob, keeping its contents warm. Goniff, with no time or imagination, had thrown a soup together that consisted mostly of water. Rolling up his sleeves in resignation, Actor sifted through Teresa's bags and bottles of spices and herbs, added a dash of this and that to the pot and let it simmer. It would have been improved by the big, fat, fluffy dumplings that Teresa sometimes put in her soups, but he had no idea how she made them. He allowed it to simmer for another twenty minutes before ladling some into a bowl and putting that on a tray with a glass of milk and a slice of bread for soaking up the leftover liquid in the bowl when she was done.

Satisfied with what he had for now, Actor carried the tray upstairs. Green eyes watched him somewhat warily when he entered. He waited silently while she propped herself up against the headboard. The tray was placed on her lap and he turned to leave.

"Seeing as you're stuck with me," said the girl, "why don't you keep me company while I eat."

Actor could think of nothing pressing that would have been accepted by the woman so instead of leaving as planned, he sat on the chair. Still he remained silent. He watched the girl stir the soup dubiously.

"Who made this?" she asked.

"Goniff."

"It's got spices in it. He doesn't know how."

"I added to it."

Terry scooped up a brown bit on her spoon and examined it. "Oh please tell me this greasy thing isn't Spam."

"It's Spam."

Terry took a taste. "The broth is good. The Spam isn't."

When there was no response, she looked at the Italian who seemed to be still smoldering from their earlier conversation. Actor eyed her. She waited, having learned like Craig if you pushed him, he would not answer. Finally, he spoke.

"You think of me as a father figure?" he demanded in disbelief.

"You know better than that," she replied quietly.

"I am not a father. And I would not know how to be a father," grumbled the Italian.

"I don't know," said Terry philosophically. "I think you'd probably make a better father than mine is or was. At least you give a damn."

Normally, Actor would not ask the personal question that was on his mind, but his relationship with Teresa was not exactly 'normal'. "Why would you think your father does not give a – damn – about you? He removed you from a bad situation in New York with Shiv."

Terry gave a sarcastic snort of laughter that ended in a cough. "It wouldn't have looked good if the Army found out his daughter was running a speakeasy and consorting with unsavory people."

"Then why would he send you to us?" asked the con man.

"We're still trying to figure that one out."

"But when you were children; was he not a good father?"

Terry frowned. "He was Army. He went to France at the beginning of the first war and got himself shot up. From there he spent the rest of the war in Washington. He came home at Christmas and whenever he figured it was time for another child." She normally would not air the family dirty laundry with anyone, but then she and Actor weren't exactly 'normal.' It wasn't until Craig and I spent time with the family in Italy that we figured out why Ma just took Dad's absence without an argument. And why she put up with the mistresses."

Actor nodded. "It is the Italian way. The wife takes care of the children and accommodates her husband when he wishes. It is expected the man will have mistresses."

"You know all about having mistresses," said Terry. She smiled. "It's your way."

"I am not a family person," said Actor. "It is easier this way. No responsibilities, no children to be burdened with."

"And how do you know you don't have children out there somewhere?" teased Terry.

"Because I take precautions so that does not happen," he retorted. He frowned. "I suppose there might be a child or two somewhere. Accidents do happen. But I have never heard of any and I would think I would have by now."

"How would anybody notify you?" asked Terry. "Seems to me you leave them with no forwarding address. Sounds like you never stayed in one place too long at a time, except prison."

Actor should have taken offence at the conversation; however Teresa was treating it like a casual topic. She could have been accusatory or condemning, but she wasn't. At least not about him. He shrugged, not having a good answer to that and not wishing to con her with something he made up.

She did not force the issue and went back to eating the vegetables, but leaving the Spam untouched. Following the Italian culture, she soaked up the last dregs of broth with the bread and savored it. When she was finished, Actor took the tray and started toward the door.

"I'm sorry you're stuck babysitting me," said the girl quietly.

Actor stopped and turned around. It was the second time she had used the word stuck. He eyed her curiously. "Is that how it was for you when you had to take care of me?"

"No," she replied. "Not at all. And it never will be it if comes to that."

"Then do not assume I am _stuck_ with you." He let go of the last of his resentment at her father remark. A crooked grin lifted the right corner of his mouth. "I suppose this beats getting shot at."

"I suppose," agreed the girl with a smile.

Actor turned and left with the tray to wash the last of the dishes up. As he made his way downstairs to the kitchen, he pondered on the turn of events. Truth be told he would have liked to have gone to Spain. Spain was a beautiful place along the coast and in parts of the interior. Or at least it had been before the Spanish Civil War; and he had been in England and the States during most of that era. Ah Spain, not quite as decadent as Portugal, but still some lovely night clubs and hot women. Of course with Garrison, they would not have had time to indulge in some of the niceties of the night life. There had to be something the man could blow up somewhere. A smile came to the Italian's face. Lt. Garrison was enthusiastic; sometimes overly so. And a wonderful con man. Too bad he was so ingrained into the military. He would have made a great partner after the war. His sister too if it came to that. Reality brought him back to the present as he sank his elegant manicured hands into soapy dishwater.

GGG

The next day remained rainy. Actor kept Teresa's bedroom warm with a fire constantly burning in her fireplace. The girl was trying to increase her stamina, but still tired easily. She was able to get into the bathroom without assistance now. After a lunch of chicken soup from the leftover chicken in the freezer, Actor took a seat beside the girl's bed and eyed her. Not quite as pasty pale, she still looked bad. Her auburn hair hung in greasy strings.

Actor shook his head. "Teresa, I am not intending to be insulting, but you really are in need of a bath."

"I agree," said Terry. "I can't stand my hair. The last bath I took was in that river in Belgium. But, I can barely make it to the bathroom on my own."

Actor looked at her with a sly grin. "There are ways." She watched him get up and go into the bathroom, starting the water in the tub. It took the ancient water heater in the basement a long time to heat the water sufficiently. Terry's eyes widened when he returned, sat on the edge of her bed and began removing his clothes.

"Uhh . . . Actor?" she questioned hesitantly.

"I am not getting in the shower with all my clothes on," he returned.

Magnificently naked, he stood, helped her out of the bed, and lifted her gown over her head. After tossing it atop his clothes, he lifted her easily into his arms and walked with her into the bathroom. Terry was set on her feet next to the tub. Actor kept a steadying hand on her arm while he checked the temperature of the water. He was being so casual about things, she ceased to be embarrassed by both of them being naked together. With a smile, he picked her up and placed her on her feet in the tub. A second later, he stepped in and pulled the curtain around them. A flip of the knob and deliciously warm water rained down from the shower head. Terry gave a moan of pleasure and moved under the water.

Actor looked around and picked up a washcloth and bar of soap from the wire basket hanging on the edge of the tub. He wet the cloth and soaped it up good. Terry leaned against the curtain covered wall, while she was gently but thoroughly bathed.

It was an odd feeling being bathed by the Italian, but very pleasant and not at all arousing, or maybe she was a bit too tired and weak to feel that way. It was even stranger to be turned to lean against his chest while he applied shampoo to her hair and lathered it up, massaging her scalp and working the suds into her hair. She rested against him for a minute, allowing the shampoo to work. After a bit, he turned her and supported her under the spray to rinse off. The steam building up and the heat of the water seemed to loosen her chest and she started coughing. The con man kept an arm around her waist as he bent her forward and then rinsed the shampoo from her hair. Stepping back with her, he worked conditioner into the auburn hair. She had her eyes closed and was leaning a bit more heavily against him. She was still coughing, but the cough sounded better. He moved her back and rinsed her hair one last time, slicking it back on her head and squeezing the water from the long tresses.

"Ready to get out?" he asked.

"I'd love to stay under that water, but I think my knees are getting a little wobbly," she said.

Actor turned the water off and pulled back the curtain. He stepped out onto the bath rug and again lifted her out of the tub and onto her feet on the rug. She was holding onto his shoulders for support now as he quickly dried her off. He moved her back to sit sideways on the closed toilet.

She leaned tiredly back against the wall. Eyes half closed, she watched him dry himself off. It struck her in a lazy way that the man was absolutely gorgeous. He seemed quite comfortable in his nakedness. Probably from being in that state of undress in front of all his multitude of lady friends, she thought wryly.

Actor folded the wet towel and draped it over the edge of the tub. He picked up a dry one from the towel bar on the wall and approached Terry. She leaned forward while he dried her hair and wrapped it in the towel. Standing up with difficulty, she thought about trying to walk to the bed, but it seemed so far so she decided to just slip her arms around his neck and let Actor pick her up again. He carried her back and sat her on the edge of the bed.

"Can you sit a moment?" he asked her.

Terry nodded and watched as he went through her dresser to find a clean nightgown. He selected one and helped her into it.

"Well this has been a new experience," remarked Terry.

"For me also, _cara_ ," said Actor with a grin. "Whenever I bathe with a lady it has always been a prelude to or following other activities."

Terry gave a chuckle and coughed. "Well I really do appreciate the sacrifice you have made, _caro_." She melted over onto her side, head on the pillow. Actor raised her legs and tucked the covers around her. She watched through droopy eyes as he put his socks on and slipped his legs into his underwear and pants. When he stood to pull them up, Terry got a good view of his derriere. Nice ass, she thought to herself, not aware she murmured it aloud.

Actor turned his head to look at her in amusement. She was sound asleep. "Thank you, My Love," he said softly with a grin.

GGG

The next day, whether from the shower, or she had reached a turning point in her illness, Actor was relieved to find Teresa having a stronger voice and more stamina. She had asked him to bring her a book and she was sitting up in bed reading. He had administered the last dose of penicillin they had and now it was her turn to heal herself. Actor was confident her system could handle that now. That said, the Italian was spending the day downstairs, a surprise up his sleeve.

That afternoon, Kit slowly entered the bedroom and looked at her friend in the middle of the bed, propped against the headboard. Terry's eyes were still dark underneath. Her skin was dry and transparent pale. The green eyes had life in them though.

"You sure you shouldn't be in a hospital?" asked the redhead, taking a seat on the edge of the bed.

"Probably," admitted Terry, "but as long as Actor doesn't mind babysitting me, I'll stay here as long as I can." Terry grinned, "What brings you out here?"

"That idiot Italian of yours," replied Kit rolling her eyes.

"Actor?" asked Terry in confusion.

"See any other idiot Italians around here right now? I don't know what kind of _friendship_ you two have, but that man is going to spoil you rotten." Terry frowned as Kit continued. "He called me this morning and gave me a grocery list you wouldn't believe. Doesn't he know there's a war on and it's the end of winter in England? Lemons. Okay, I can give him lemons from the bar. Truffles for cryin' out loud. Man's lucky I could find plain old ordinary mushrooms on the black market. Some funny kind of rice. Oh, no, we can't make do with regular rice. And sugar. You know how hard it is to get sugar? Even with a ration coupon?"

Terry was trying hard to stifle a grin.

Kit made a face and held up a finger, "But the best one was quail."

"Quail?" Terry's eyebrows went up. "You didn't find quail did you?"

"No, Madge did. She knew somebody who knew somebody who poaches. And Madge would do anything for 'that big bloke o' Terry's'," said Kit with disgust. "So I guess you're having quail tonight."

Terry started to laugh which immediately triggered a coughing spell. It wasn't long after that Actor entered the bedroom. He sat down on the bed opposite Kit, with a tall glass of liquid on ice.

"You need to drink more," he instructed Terry.

Actor held the glass closer so she could reach the glass straw. Terry dutifully took a sip. She smiled widely. "Lemonade."

"Jeez," snorted Kit.

"Shut up, Gallagher," said Terry.

"Sweet enough?" asked Actor, deliberately ignoring the other girl.

"Just right," said Terry. "Thank you, _caro_. You shouldn't have gone to all that trouble."

"He didn't," butted in Kit. "I'm the one running around tryin' to find this stuff."

"And your efforts are greatly appreciated," said the con man smoothly.

"Oh, don't give me the voice, Actor," said Kit grumpily.

She looked at the two of them. Actor was holding the glass and watching Kit smugly. Terry was grinning. Kit noticed that she had her hand on the man's leg. Kit's eyes met Terry's and saw the ill woman's eyebrows shrug.

Shaking her head, Kit said with a smile, "Oh, Girl, you are a glutton for punishment."

"Yup," replied Terry.

Kit got up. "I gotta get back to the Fox."

Actor caught her eye. "Sincerely, Kit, thank you for your assistance."

Kit grinned crookedly, "I'd tell you to take good care of her, but you already are. If you need anything, just call me." Damn man, she thought, he actually did seem sincere.

Actor spent the rest of the afternoon in the kitchen. The sun had set and the blackout curtains had been pulled by the time he finished his surprise, which after Kit's visit was no longer a total surprise. He went upstairs to find Teresa starting on a second book.

"Do you feel like eating at the table tonight?" he asked. "I will help you downstairs."

"Help me or carry me?" asked Terry in amusement.

"Whichever you prefer," he replied.

"Yes. I think I would like to get out of the bedroom for awhile." She closed the book and lay it on the covers beside her. "Dress or pants?"

Actor sucked in a cheek. "Robe will do for tonight."

He picked up the chenille garment from across the foot of the bed and held it for her as she got up. Once she was belted and slippered, he held his elbow out and she placed her hand through it to take his arm. They slowly and carefully made their way down the staircase.

The only light in the common room was from a lamp beside his chair and the fire in the fireplace. Actor watched the girl's expression as they turned toward the dining room. A pale light flickered from it, causing Teresa to frown. She stopped short at sight of the table. Actor had covered the table with a cloth and lit candles.

As he seated her in a chair, she said, "I don't think I have ever served dinner here like this."

"Understandable," he replied. "With the clods we live with, it would be a waste of your time and effort."

"Be nice," she replied absently, while taking in the silver utensils and crystal glasses they were not supposed to use.

"A moment, Teresa, and I will serve you."

Actor ignored the admonishment and disappeared into the kitchen. In a minute, he was back with two plates of food. He set one in front of the young woman and the other at his place at the foot of the table before taking a seat. She stared at the food. The Italian was pleased that his effort had temporarily rendered her speechless. Two halves of roast quail resided on each plate, accompanied by fresh English peas from the garden and a mushroom risotto made with quail drippings, wine, and broth from the chicken soup he had made earlier. He took a couple bites and had to admit his satisfaction to himself. He had not had an opportunity to cook like this in years. Obviously, he had not lost his touch. Actor glanced at the young woman and watched the smile on her face widen with each bite.

Finally, he had to ask. "Is it to your satisfaction?"

"Ummm," said Terry around a forkful of risotto. "Actor, this is better than from a restaurant."

"Thank you,"

She ate another bite before asking, "How come I've been doing the cooking the past year and change when you can cook like this?"

The Italian grinned crookedly. "I only cook on special occasions and for special people."

"I am so glad you think I'm special."

They finished the meal with Actor appreciating Teresa's enthusiasm over his cooking. Leaning back in his chair, the con man glanced at the girl.

"I'm sorry. There is no dessert."

"Coffee or brandy would be fine," suggested Teresa.

"Ah, for some biscotti and vin santo," lamented the Italian.

"You and your sweet tooth," teased the girl.

"I do not have a sweet tooth," denied Actor indignantly.

"Sure you do, _caro,_ and I try to feed it as much as I can. Or what I can get around Goniff." The last was said with affection for the little Englishman who had a bottomless pit for a stomach.

Actor rose and began picking up dirty dishes. Terry stood and began picking up glasses.

"Leave it," said Actor. "You don't need to help. I can manage just fine." He paused at the door to the kitchen and looked back. "Do you need to go back to bed?"

Terry shook her head. "No I want to sit up for awhile."

"Brandy on the sofa in front of the fire?" suggested Actor.

"I'll meet you there," she smiled. A frown crossed her face. "You aren't going to wash all the dishes tonight are you?"

"No," he replied firmly, disappearing into the kitchen. His voice rose so she could hear him. "I have washed enough dishes for one day. My hands will never be the same."

Terry stifled a laugh and blew out the candles, flipping on the overhead chandelier before heading for the common room.


	6. Chapter 6

Pneumonia

Chapter 6

Actor finished rinsing dishes and putting food away before heading for the common room. He started to angle toward the dry bar, but a hand with a balloon holding two fingers of cognac rose above the back of the sofa, so he went there instead. Taking a seat beside the girl, he accepted the drink and touched rims with her glass.

"Cin-cin," said Teresa.

"Cin-cin," replied Actor to the toast.

They sipped their drinks and relaxed. Actor's arm moved behind Teresa's head and she wiggled closer so she was encircled in his loose embrace. Neither felt the need for conversation at first. Finally Actor had to bring up the subject he was sure would set the girl off.

"Who were you working for?" asked Actor with studied casualness.

"Resistance," replied Terry evenly.

"Resistance?" repeated Actor, disbelief evident in his voice.

"Resistance," was the stubborn reply.

"Teresa, I have been in the basement."

Terry's face went still, but wary eyes turned to the man. "There is nothing in the basement."

Their eyes locked.

"There is nothing in the basement," said Terry firmly.

Actor eyed her before responding. "As you wish . . . to the others."

Terry sighed. "Actor, you don't know how much I appreciate what you are doing for me, but, please, forget what you saw, or think you saw, in the basement."

"I don't think, I know what I saw down there. And I have no intentions of forgetting it," said the Italian.

"I don't want you involved in this."

"And I don't want you involved in it."

Terry sighed and relaxed into his shoulder. "It's a little late for that. I'm in it. And I've been in it for awhile."

"You could very easily be killed. You were lucky this time."

"Yes. But I could have a bomb drop on my head here from one of those bombers trying to hit Archbury or London."

"Less likely than what you were doing."

"Or what you do. We do." She turned her head into his shoulder. "Vittorio . . ."

Actor took a breath held it and let it out slowly, trying to regain control of himself before he said too much.

"You're worried about me," said the girl softly. "I worry about you too."

He felt her kiss through his shirt. Maybe he should take the cognac away from her. At least it wasn't champagne. Change the subject.

"So you liked dinner tonight?"

"Of course. You are a fantastic cook. I don't know what you did with that risotto, but I can't make it that good." She looked up at him, successfully distracted. "I thought you told Craig you couldn't cook?"

"No," said the con man. "I told the Warden we had cooks. I did not say I did not know how."

"Sneaky." She took a big sip of the liquor and snuggled into his side.

Actor set his glass on the end table and took hers from her. "I think you've had enough."

She snatched the glass back and drained it before handing it to him. With a shake of his head, Actor set the glass down and tucked her in closer to him. He retrieved his glass and finished his drink at a much more leisurely rate. He would have liked a pipe but was afraid the smoke would set her to coughing. Instead, he enjoyed the closeness and watched the fire.

A glance down saw the girl's eyes were closed. Her breathing said she wasn't asleep. That and her hand moved to his thigh, giving a brief rub before stilling. Ah, he could get to like this. They stayed that way until the fire had burned down to the point of needing to be banked or replenished with wood.

"Come on, _carina_ ," he said reluctantly. "I need to do something with the fire. Do you wish to stay down here longer?"

Just as reluctantly, Teresa sat up. "No, I think I need to go back to bed."

Actor got up and banked the fire. Returning to the sofa, he picked up both empty glasses and took them to the kitchen. Coming back, he reached a hand out and pulled Terry to her feet.

"Are you planning on carrying me again?" she asked.

"Are you planning on passing out and falling down the stairs?"

She frowned. "I'm not sure. The room's spinning. I can't be drunk. I don't get drunk."

Actor laughed. "You probably do not drink when you are ill either. Okay, come on, Little One."

He lifted her in his arms and headed for the stairs. He would not have to do his weight exercises in the morning.

GGG

The days continued pretty much the same. Terry came downstairs and spent time in the chair by the window or on the sofa, wrapped in a blanket and reading books or newspapers. Actor grew tired of all the reading he was doing and went into Garrison's office. He knew which locked file cabinet drawer held the intelligence the officer was supposed to read and assess. The Italian also knew where the key was kept that unlocked the drawer. Soon his days were spent analyzing the raw data.

Six days passed from the time Garrison and the other men had left on the mission. The weather over the Continent stalled and drenched the countryside. It would make getting back to England a challenge. The mission to trade intelligence would also be a challenge as the meet was not in one of the larger cities. So, the two who had remained behind were not unduly worried when a full week passed with no word or sign of the officer and the cons.

On the afternoon of the eighth day, the telephone rang. Terry and Actor exchanged looks. Actor was not supposed to be there so he could not answer it. Garrison had instructed his sister not to answer it either. As usual she did not follow his orders.

She answered the telephone warily. Actor watched her. Her expression changed from relief to confusion and then flat out disbelief.

"He did what?" she asked. After a pause of listening she shook her head. "You have got to be kidding. He gets the mission finished, gets the guys out, and turns around and takes them back in? All right. What's he blowing up this time?" There was a longer pause. "So he took them in this weather to France to destroy a munitions depot on the border."

She exchanged a look with Actor and crossed her eyes. Actor could not believe what he was hearing of this one sided conversation. No, he believed it. The Lieutenant was overly enthusiastic at times and not one to let a little rain, snow, sleet, or hail keep him sitting on his hands.

"Okay," said Terry. After another pause she smiled, "Thanks Meg. And if you hear from him again tell him . . . No, I'll tell him when he gets back." She hung up.

"It won't do any good to tell him," said Actor. "We try all the time with no luck. Now what is he doing?"

Terry went back to her chair and bundled into the blanket. Actor stood in front of her and looked down at her.

"They exchanged the intel. Made it back to the coast and met up with the sub. They got back to Malta without a problem, but the weather was too bad for the planes to take off and the subs were too busy to make a run to England. So he sat and read the new intel. Seems Hitler thinks he might take a stab at taking over Spain, so he stockpiled a lot of munitions on the French border. Craig took the men back by sub and is working his way to France to take out the munitions."

"Any mention of how he plans to get out?" asked Actor.

Teresa shook her head. "I imagine he'll just wing it." She smiled up at the big man. "I guess you're _stuck_ with me for another week."

"I don't know how I will manage," said the man back just as sarcastically. He shrugged and grinned. "The Warden should be pleasantly surprised when he returns to find how little paperwork he will have left to analyze."

"Gee, if you play him right, he might grant you a 48 hour pass to London." Terry grinned back at him.

"You think I need one?" questioned the con man with amusement.

"It's been over a month, _caro_ ," she smiled insincerely.

"What are you doing, keeping track of my sex life?" demanded Actor with feigned outrage.

"Don't have anything better to do," she shot back, picking up her book.

" _Cara,_ I do not need you monitoring my recreational needs," he huffed back at her.

"Fine, Vittorio."

Actor shook his head and disappeared back into Garrison's office. The woman was _pazzo,_ just plain _pazzo._ She was keeping track of him almost as well as he was.

As Teresa rapidly grew stronger, he found himself feeling less and less like her personal physician. Maybe he did need some time in London. For some reason, that did not hold the same charm for him as it always had. Elizabeth had moved on to other pastures, so to speak, including some young twit she was grooming for studhood. It never struck the ladies man his interests had turned elsewhere also.

GGG

Two days later, a car pulled up to the steps. Teresa was looking out the window by the time Actor reached the doorway to Garrison's office. The frown on the girl's face kept him alert for problems.

"Who . . .?" he asked.

Teresa did not answer, but was almost to the door when it burst open without a knock. The tall blond man that entered drew a look of disgust from the con man.

"I came to see if you were alright," said Jake Bradford without preliminary.

"I'm getting better," assured Teresa. "You could have just called."

"Yeah, well I had to see for myself." Shiv glanced at the confidence man. "What's he still doing here?"

"I reside here," said Actor coldly.

"He's been taking care of me," added Teresa.

"He's not a doctor, I am," said the man. His demeanor was possessive and arrogant.

"I am quite capable," said Actor. "And I did not see you around when she was at her worst."

Terry spoke up before the blond man could open his mouth. "He is very capable, Jake. He takes good care of all of us."

Shiv gave a snort of derision. "You can come back to your apartment now," he said.

Actor's eyes narrowed in growing anger. The set of Teresa's shoulders said she was feeling the same.

"I have no intentions of going back to my apartment until Craig gets back. Thank you for your concern, but next time just call." The girl's voice was quiet, but with a certain menace to it.

"I need you at the Fox," said Jake getting to the point.

"When I am ready to go back to work," said Teresa, "I'll let you know."

"And I will be the one deciding when she is ready for work," inserted Actor.

Terry looked hard at her ex-boyfriend. "Shiv, we have a saying where I come from. Don't let the door hit you in the backside on your way out."

"Perhaps he needs some assistance out," suggested Actor with a malevolent smile.

"What? From you?" sneered Shiv.

Actor started forward, but Terry stepped between the two men.

"You've seen for yourself," she said. "I'll let you know when I'm ready to come back to the Fox. I'm sure Kit could use your help before it gets busy."

Actor stood close to Teresa's back and glared at the man narrowly. The blond returned the glare for a minute and then turned on his heel and strode out the door, letting it slam shut behind him.

"Teresa," said Actor.

"What?" asked the girl resignedly.

"You have disgusting taste in men."

She turned with raised eyebrows. "I'm with you and not him right now. What's that say about you, Vittorio?" she asked.

The claws were out, thought Actor as the young woman stepped around him and went back to her chair.

GGGGG

The rains ceased and Terry pushed herself to regain her strength by walking outside. Actor accompanied her on the pretext he was concerned for her health. It was going to be a nice day. There was very little breeze, but it was still cool under the canopy of tree branches that arched over the dirt track Craig and Chief had cleared in a mile circle around the house and bordering part of the perimeter of the large estate. When they were not gone on missions, the two were up at dawn running the mile sometimes two or three times. Terry wondered what they talked about, or even if they talked, considering Chief's propensity to be closed-mouthed.

Today, her morning walk seemed to be an equally quiet one. Not a word had been spoken since the two of them had started down the trail. It was not an uncomfortable silence, but rather a companionable one. It gave Terry a chance to study the varied low patches of blue and yellow flowers that lined the edge of the pathway. She didn't know what kind of flowers they were. This was a different climate and altitude than she was used to. She supposed she could ask Actor, he knew everything. No, it would evoke too long an explanation. Instead, Terry listened to the calls of the birds and the humming of occasional bees buzzing from flower to flower in search of nectar. The fragrance of the woods was different from the alpine one she had grown up with. Still it was cool and pleasant.

Her eyes shifted closer to her booted feet moving forward at a slow even pace. The black leather toes showing from under her trouser pants were dusty. She needed to clean and oil them again. Beside her, a pair of leather, high-topped, laced Army issue boots kept a slower, longer stride.

"Would you like me to pick up the pace?" Terry asked, looking up at the dark haired Italian.

"Only if you wish to," Actor replied easily. "We are here to follow your speed."

Terry swallowed a grin. She wondered if she could elicit the familiar exasperated sigh if she were to suddenly break into a run. The confidence man hated to run. He hated to walk for that matter. That thought gave her mind pause. So what was he doing out here with her? In the beginning, she could understand his concern. but she knew her limits and knew how far she could walk and still return to the Mansion without becoming exhausted. As an experiment, Terry slipped her right hand in his larger left one to be rewarded with curled fingers and his thumb rubbing the back of her hand. She gave a light squeeze and got one in return.

Maybe she wasn't imagining things. She remembered awakening after the long semi-conscious state when the pneumonia had been at its worst. She was propped up in bed, tucked into Actor's shoulder, enfolded in his arms, his head resting atop hers, warm breath rhythmically ruffling the hair on her forehead as he breathed in sleep. She had wanted to stay there forever, but immediately had a coughing spell that woke the man up instantly. He had cooked for her; expensive European dishes with ingredients he had paid Kit Gallagher handsomely to obtain from the Black Market. When she had improved enough to be able to come downstairs and eat at the table, Actor would retire to the common room and sit on the sofa instead of in his chair. They had turned it into a nightly ritual whereby he started a pipe and she brought him a balloon of brandy. He would hold an arm out and she would curl up against his shoulder, sharing the brandy with him as he smoked.

GGG

Terry snuggled closer in the circle of Actor's arm. She knew this would end soon and she regretted it deeply. After a sip of brandy, Terry moved across the Italian's chest to reach over and set the glass on the end table. Actor took a long puff on his pipe, tipped his head back, and blew a slow cloud of smoke upwards, away from her. The pipe found a resting place beside the glass.

Terry was acutely aware she was half on top of the man. Her free hand came to rest against the left side of his chest, palm moving in a small circle over ribs. His right arm tightened around her back, holding her close as his left hand wove fingers through her hair, easing her head back. She looked up into darkening hazel eyes. Neither moved, eyes locked, as they searched for each other's response to the more intimate position. Terry's lips unconsciously parted in an invitation. It was the response Actor had been hoping for. His lips descended on hers, kisses soft, building in intensity as hers met his with equal passion.

The woman made no objection when he eased her around and onto her back. Now with both of her hands free, they explored his back and the nape of his neck, playing with dark hair. He was propped on his forearms on either side of her, keeping his full weight off her. The sofa was not long enough to accommodate him so he was at an angle, one knee on the floor. The kisses were more passionate now, following cheeks, jaw lines, throats, and collar bones. Terry slipped a leg off the sofa behind his. Actor's hands were prisoners holding her shoulders from behind as he kept his weight off of her and on his forearms. It left Terry's hands free to roam over his back and shoulders and down to urge his hips into the space she had made for him. Tongues met tongues, dipping, tasting, sucking and nibbling. Actor moved to kiss forehead, temples and cheeks, while Terry's right arm curled around his arm so she could reach to open the top two buttons of his shirt, easing the material apart before returning to caress his back. He levered forward, giving her access to kiss his throat and lower. The tip of her tongue tasted his skin, causing him to take a deep breath. Her hands moved to the small of his back, pressing him tighter to her. He arched hips to hips with her, which allowed her to tease the curls on his chest with tongue and lips. After a few moments of this, he eased back down, their legs shifting so his was outside hers on the seat, her thigh pressing against him. Actor nuzzled lower down her throat, teasing the buttonhole over the button of her blouse with his teeth. She was wearing the lace brassiere he had given her. The corners of his mouth turned up in a smile before he began pressing kisses to the inner side of her breast. A tiny noise escaped her and one hand pressed the small of his back as the other wove fingers through his hair to cup the back of his head. They both were past the point of turning back now.

Sounds of a car engine growing louder penetrated their awareness and they froze.

"No," whispered Terry in frustration. "Not again."

Actor's eyes met hers, echoing her frustration. Was he destined never to get any farther than this? Reluctantly he pulled away to kneel on the floor. Terry followed his body, hands sliding along his ribs. He bent and they exchanged one last swift kiss before he stood.

Terry buttoned her blouse and straightened her clothes and hair, watching the con man in wonder. He buttoned his shirt, smoothed the material in the front and tucked his shirttails in more securely. Hands reached up to smooth his hair in place. A slight hitch of his shoulders and the inscrutable mask flowed over his features. The transformation was amazing. Terry's eyes slid lower and wondered how he was going to disguise that. He picked up the glass of brandy and his pipe and sat down in his chair. The glass and pipe were placed on the end table and the Stars and Stripes was opened and lowered across his lap.

Terry had reassembled herself and laid back down on the sofa, head tilted back to watch the con man. She grinned and shook her head. He looked calmly at her and gave a wink. She swallowed a laugh, but could not prevent a wide grin.

The front door opened and Garrison tiredly walked in followed by the other men. Actor was looking at him from his chair with a bored smile.

"I trust the mission was successful?" asked the Italian.

"Yes," replied Craig. "Both of them." He frowned. "How's Terry?"

A hand appeared in an equally bored wave over the back of the sofa. Her head came up, looking as though she were half asleep, cheeks faintly red.

"You look flushed," said Craig. "You any better?"

"I still get hot once in awhile, but I'm feeling much better," Terry assured him. "He's been feeding me way too much." She nodded toward the Italian.

"You need nourishment for your body to heal," admonished Actor.

"Yeah, at the rate you're stuffing me I'm going to look like one of those balloons over London," she retorted.

Craig shook his head. He wondered if those two ever did anything but argue anymore.

"Guess she's better, hey Warden?" chuckled Casino. He turned to the confidence man. "Too bad yuh missed it. The first time in was bad enough. The second time was worse. Chief couldn't find a dry cave for the life of him."

"Yeah? Next time you find us a place to hole up," growled the Indian.

Actor smiled and shook his head. "I am so sorry I missed this little excursion with all of you." He gave an overly exaggerated sigh. "I was busy keeping the fires going on both floors to keep the chill out. It would not have been safe to allow Teresa to catch more cold."

It was the Limey's turn. "An' I don't suppose you made san'miches or som'fin' to eat?"

"We had no warning of your pending arrival and I am not you chef."

"Now wot's he saying" Goniff asked Casino.

"No."

"Enough!"

Epilogue

Actor successfully let himself through the cut bars and down the trellis silently. He would have preferred going out the front door, but that would have required an explanation to Garrison. His hand went into his pocket to retrieve the keys to Teresa's MG. He pushed the car down the driveway a sufficient ways to keep the noise of the engine starting from being heard inside the Mansion. Now that Teresa wasn't alone, he was on his own mission; something he felt compelled to do.

It did not take him long, despite the blackout to reach the Blue Fox. He had timed it to arrive a couple minutes before closing. Kit looked up with a double take when he entered. Shiv had his back to the door, removing the drawer from the cash register.

"Uh, we're closed," said Kit, not taking her eyes off the Italian.

Shiv turned to see who she was talking to and set the drawer on the bar. "We're closed," he repeated.

"Oh I am not here for a drink," said the con man.

Jake stepped around the end of the bar. "You're not welcome here. Get out."

The Italian slowly shook his head. Actor stood at his full six feet and four inches to gain further advantage over the blond man who showed no indication of backing down.

"I have my theory about what you do here, and I do not mean running a second-rate bar," said the con man.

Shiv sent a daggered look at Kit.

"Hey," she objected defensively, "Terry needed help. I had to let him into the basement."

Shiv turned icicle blue eyes back at the Italian. "Okay, so you have an idea. So what."

Actor's voice was deadly. "If she dies because of you, your life will be worthless." This was one blood vendetta the Italian would pursue. And he doubted Garrison would be too upset about it.

"Yeah," retorted Shiv. "And if she dies working with your little band of two bit hoods? That's okay?"

"When she is with us, we protect her," replied Actor.

"Sure you do," scoffed Shiv. "I've seen her with bullet holes in her. Not to mention almost getting raped while you were supposedly watching her."

Actor's countenance hardened with black fury.

"Shiv, back off!" yelled Kit. "Actor kept it from happening. Terry told me that." She turned to the con man. "Actor, you've made your point real clear. Please? Go back to the Mansion. Take care of Terry."

The two men silently eyed each other like a couple stallions. Actor turned away with nonchalance, but heard the snick of the switchblade. Whirling on the ball of one foot, Actor's other leg lashed out. The knife flew through the air to slide over the floor and halfway across the room. Shiv caught his wrist, not at all sure it wasn't broken. He stared defiantly at the evil half grin on the con man's face, struggling to keep the pain out of his expression.

"Obviously Teresa did not learn her skills from you," said Actor with quiet menace and a dark smile.

The Italian deliberately turned his back on the irate blond man and calmly walked out of the bar.


End file.
